Rebirth
by FirstYear
Summary: Vincent Crabbe survives the fire severly injured. Now he has relearn how to live alone, not wanted by either side, and fighting to find his way. He has a little help from A. Weasley, Minerva and Tom of the Leaky Cauldron, along with OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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**Rebirth**

**Chapter 1**

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Vincent turned from the heat that scorched his skin, trying to find any place that would offer him protection. He turned toward a cabinet, reached for the brass handle and pulled back his now blistered palm. Spinning again, he faced a wall of flame and felt his skin burn with the heated air that offered no relief to his already oxygen deprived lungs.

He collapsed on his knees and became a child crying for his mother, screaming for his father and pleading for the only one that cared for him as a child, his nanny-elf, Elsie. He felt the left side of his face begin to blister and as he tried to raise his hand to protect his eyes. In his last throes of consciousness he felt a hard claw grab his swollen fingers, and spin him out of the raging inferno. The pain was greater than any he had felt, greater than he could have imagined, and he prayed for death to come swiftly.

He lay in a dark place, sweet smelling and quiet. Vincent did not know if he was alive or dead until pain coursed through him, lighting his body on fire once again. He heard a scream and did not know it was his own until the scream stopped and he felt a thin tube forced between his teeth, and tasted something foul pour into his mouth.

He floated in a sea of salt, and turned with the tide. He smelled the heavy air of wetlands in full summer, and heard the sound of insects buzzing near his head. He tried to swat them away only to find his hands heavy and moist, as if wrapped in mud that clung and weighed him down. Again, he felt the tube, again the taste, and again the blessed sleep.

He woke to fresh air, wafting across half of his face, and tried to turn his head to feel it in full, only to realize his face was covered. Lifting his hand to pull back what was covering him, he felt clumsy and unable to bring his hand to its destination.

"No Master Vincent," Elsie whispered. "You needs to lie still."

"El…," He tried to form words but his mouth would not move as he commanded it.

"Yes Master." A soft flannel wiped his right cheek. "I's here to take care of you Master."

He nodded as again the tube poured sleep between his lips. Somewhere in his mind, it registered that he was now Master. It registered that he had lived, and he screamed anger and pain into the room.

Each time Vincent Crabbe woke, he became a little more aware of his surroundings, and a little more aware of the pain. There finally came the morning that he woke and struggled to sit up, for the first time feeling the shroud that encased his mind lift, and leave him able to think in small patches of reality.

"Master, oh Master." Elsie happily tucked pillows behind him. "My Master wakes."

"Master?" Vincent found it difficult to wrap his mouth around the words, as if too tight skin held his mouth prisoner. "My father is dead then."

"Yes Master," Elsie said with out any sadness. "In the last battle Master."

"Mother?" he asked, hesitating.

"Azkaban Master," Elsie squeaked. "She gone to Azkaban."

Vincent laid his head back against the pillows and considered what Elsie had just told him. He was only surprised that he was not shocked, or saddened. He knew his father would fall in the last battle as he would not give up even if he saw the battle was lost, and suspected that his mother would either be captured or flee. He had left home seven years ago for school, and had not been truly back since.

He was the child they never wanted, only the heir that was needed. Hogwarts was a blessing to them. They had packed him off to school and made sure that every Holiday and every summer since his first year, he spent with the Malfoys, or a distant relative willing to take him. He was only home for the occasional dinner, to put on a show of family unity, and to present to the Dark Lord.

"Elsie," he croaked. Raising a hand to this throat and wincing at the pain brought on by talking, he struggled to make himself heard. "Eyes, bandage."

"No Master," Elsie said patiently. "We wait for Healer. He be here soon."

"Where?" Vincent tried again to bring his hands to his eyes, only to feel as if he were wearing soft padded mallets on the end of his arms. He sighed and leaned back to wait.

"Mr Crabbe?" A voice called him as a hand touched his chest. "Mr Crabbe, you need to wake up now."

"I am up," Vincent said coming out of a fog-filled sleep. "Who are you?"

"I am the Healer Elsie called the night she brought you here." The voice was moving around the bed to Vincent's other side. "I am afraid you have been out of it for quite some time young man."

"How long?" Vincent head the Healers voice move again, this time following the voice down to the foot of the bed.

"It has been several months now." The Healer watched for signs of agitation for which he had brought a calming potion. "You were burnt quite severely. St. Mungo's only took the injuries of the… well, of the other side, so we treated you here."

"My eyes?" Vincent brought up his clubbed hands again. "What of my eyes?"

"The right one should be fine. We have already preformed as many charms as we could on the left." The Healer reached for the tape that held the bandage closed and began to undo the bindings. "I am afraid you have lost some vision, however nothing a pair of glasses cannot fix. There is some scar tissue on the left side of your face which will fade somewhat in time."

Vincent sat quietly while the bandage taken off his head, freeing his eyes in suddenly painful light. He squeezed his eyes shut against the white glare and fought not to cry out.

"That's a good thing," the healer said lightly. "Just take your time."

Vincent squinted as he tried to peek out at the light, only to again shut his eyes tight. He felt the stinging and intrusion of the light as pin points of pain shooting into his head.

"Elsie," said the Healer softly. "Draw the curtains, it may be too bright in here."

In a few moments, Vincent was able to look around to see blurry shapes and moving shadows without much pain. He turned his head trying to make out familiar things in his room, but found none.

"Don't expect much right now." The healer stood between him and the window, blocking more of the light. "It will take a few days before you see normally."

"My hands?" Vincent held up the gauze wrapped clubs. "What happened?"

"Your hands and left side took the worse of it." He healer stepped out of the light. "Your hands were burnt badly. The tendons and ligaments needed repair. You have been really quite lucky, you should have full use of them again."

Picking up his wand from Vincent's bedside table, he flicked at the bandages and began to remove them. Slowly unwrapping his hands and looking up at Vincent's face from time to time.

"We could have taken these off a couple of months ago." He leaned down to examine the hands and wrists. "I was afraid that you would damage your eyes in your sleep, so we left them on."

"Now Mr Crabbe." The healer straightened up. "You have to understand that you are not the same as you were. It will take a long time for you to get your strength back, but in a year or so you will only see a couple of scars."

Vincent looked down at his hands and frowned. The hands on his arms surely must belong to someone else. They were coarse, heavily skinned, leathery and old looking. The twisted thick scars ran up his left arm. Carefully turning his arm, he looked at the soft flesh on the underside and smiled seeing the same heavy scars and patchy skin.

"I thought you may find that a silver lining." The Healer grinned at him. "No mark, no sentence. It appears the fire has effectively lifted a life sentence from your back."

Vincent nodded his head at the old family Healer, then reached down and threw off the blankets looking at his legs. Although the left was still scared, they were not as bad as his arms.

"Elsie, a mirror." He looked at the trembling elf. "It's ok Elsie. I wasn't so good looking before. I think I can take it."

He took the hand mirror from Elsie, and stealing a glance at the Healer he peered into the glass. The face that looked back at him was unfamiliar, thin and gaunt, emaciated. His eyes were sunken, dark rings contrasted with the pale complexion of his face. His hair was longer than he had ever worn it, covering his ears and reaching down to his collar. He laid the mirror down and looked again at his legs. Wanting to ignore the scars he again laid his head back, and was asleep before the Healer had finished his examination.

.

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His dreams were of fire, and searing heat mingled with memories of the Dark Lord, and his father. He choked on smoke and felt the heat as it scorched his face and crawled on his arms. He slept fitfully, in small snatches of time, always waking to find Elsie near.

For the next two months, he stayed in his rooms reading old copies of The Daily Prophet and catching up on the world. With Elsie's help, he walked each day building up his strength and learning how to dress with only partial use of his left arm. He was beginning to feel well enough to walk around the family's home and the grounds when the weather was again changing from cold to warm.

The Crabbe's were an old family, not an overly rich one, not like the Malfoys, but old and once esteemed. He worried that recent events would make future employment impossible, who would hire a Crabbe? His father's name had covered the front pages of The Daily Prophet for over a week during the trials.

He walked the grounds and for the first time in his short life found he had to confront an unknown future. He needed to travel to Gringotts to get a statement on his accounts. He had no idea of how long he could stay here without funds.

He ordered Elsie to find him clothing and robes that fit. The clothes she had found in his old room hung on him, and his father had been a much shorter wizard, rendering his clothing unsuitable. He dressed in his new clothes slowly, carefully positioning his hood to hide as many of the scars on his left side as he could.

He would need to get a new wand. His must have been reduced to ash, or gone unnoticed and thrown out with the rubble after the fire. He wanted to get through the day unnoticed and unmolested by the press and people whom he knew from before.

"Elsie!" He called his elf. "I have to go to Diagon Alley. I will floo into the Leaky Caldron. While I am gone I want my personal things moved from my old bedroom into the Master Suite."

"Yes Master." She bowed to him smiling because she was needed.

"I was also have need to clean this place out. You will gather my fathers personal belonging's and put them in the library. I need to sort them out." He frowned at Elsie who stood twisting her claws.

"I puts them in the dungeons Master." She looked up at him shyly. "The Aurors they comes, they comes and search the house."

"I take it they did not find what they were looking for?" He sneered down at her.

"No Master. I put things in the dungeons."

"Did they remove anything?" he asked.

"No Master." Elsie bowed to him, but did not raise.

"Elsie, what is wrong?"

"They are bad things down in the dungeons Master. Terrible and bad things," she said trembling.

"Leave them. I will go thru them myself. Just get his books, and things not in the dungeons." He watched as Elsie ran off to do his bidding. Then dressing he headed for the Alley.

Vincent arrived at the Leaky Caldron, stepping out of the floo and pulling his hood down lower to hide his face. He lifted his chin high enough to look out into the room and quickly located Tom. Walking over to the barkeeper, he leaned forward to whisper his need.

"I have to enter the Alley, but have lost my wand." He began in his still raspy voice.

"Lost it you say?" Tom looked at the tall lanky wizard in front of him. "One does not just lose a wand."

"In the war," Vincent offered as much as he could. "I have just returned. I had no need of it before. I need to visit Ollivander's wand shop."

"We can't be too careful who we let in." Tom looked him over, noticing the quality of the cloak, the full cut and the exquisite fabric. "There are still rogue Death Eaters. I will need to see your arm."

Vincent hesitated, and then pushed up his left sleeve letting Tom see the scaring and discolouration. As Tom looked at the arm, Vincent reached up and pushed back the left side of his hood as well.

"In case you think I burnt it off myself," he said flatly.

Tom looked up and quickly averted his eyes from the sight. He had seen lots of war injuries and scars in the last few months; they never failed to sicken him.

"This way," he said as he turned toward the back door. "Sorry, but we can't be too careful."

Vincent watched as Tom tapped out the pattern on the bricks, and the door opened to allow him entry. Without a word, he stepped into the Alley and headed to the wand makers shop.

The small bell over the door signalled his entry into the small shop. Vincent had not been here since he was a first year buying his first wand. The shop had seemed much larger then, much darker, and had much more stock then he now saw.

"Hello?" A female voice came from the back room.

"I need to see Ollivander about a wand." Vincent looked toward the back of the store wondering if Ollivander was even still around.

"I am in sort of a bind right now," the voice sounded hesitant. "Um, I could use some help."

"Sure," Vincent said but did not move.

"Back here," the voice seemed more insistent this time.

"Um, sure." Vincent shrugged his shoulders and walked to the back of the store, pulled back the curtain that separated the back room from the front sales room, and started laughing.

She had obviously climbed up a ladder to reach the top shelf and leaned too far to the right to keep her balance. Thrusting her right leg out she had stepped to the shelf as her left leg and the ladder moved away from the shelf and was standing straight up in the middle of the aisle, held in place by her left foot that she had wrapped around a rung. She had thrown her left arm up and had her palm pushed against the ceiling to keep her from sliding to the right where she still clutched the prize she had gone after.

"I will thank you to stop laughing." She lifted her chin as the ladder swayed, and her eyes grew larger.

"This is quite a sight." Vincent leaned against the door jam, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I would thank you to either help or leave." She pressed her lips together tightly trying to maintain her dignity.

"I think I will just leave then." He turned as if to go.

"No, please." She looked at him and tried to smile. "If you could just push the ladder back?"

He laughed and walked over pushing the ladder once again toward the shelf and watched her try to get her foot on to the rung again. Stepping to the ladder, he grabbed her foot and placed it where it needed to be, watching as she started to climb back down. He reached up and grabbed her waist, pulled her down the rest of the way, and set her on the floor.

She turned to him smiling, and then froze. Vincent's hood had fallen back far enough that she had a clear sight of his face and neck. He pulled the hood back up and stepped back from her, not knowing what to say.

"I am sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to stare."

"It is quite alright." He nodded and walked back to the sales area, suddenly needing to be away from her.

"No." She came up behind him quickly. "You don't understand."

"I think I understand perfectly," he muttered.

"No, I was here that day. The day the raids started." She spoke quickly. "So many were lost, so many in … It just took me back."

He looked at her silently for a moment then nodded. "I need a wand. Mine was lost in a … in a fire."

"Sure." She worried her lip looking at the shelves. "Let's see, a thirteen inch?"

"I had an eleven inch, elderberry," he told her of his last wand only to see her shake her head.

"No, that would be too clumsy, too slow." She shook her head. "The core, perhaps dragon."

"I am used to falcon claw." He frowned at her.

"Funny, I would not take you for a follower." She bit her lip as she walked to the shelves and started pulling out boxes, retuning after she had several in her arms. "Here, try these."

After several wands, he found a thirteen-inch Mulberry with a core of dragon heart. He used the new wand to affix his seal to the bill and was about to leave when she called him back.

"Mr Crabbe?" She stood studying the seal. "It is Mr Vincent Crabbe is it not?"

"Yes." He stood facing the door, his back growing cold.

"Your name is no longer welcomed here, in the Alley I mean." She said flatly. "You should pay cash, and don't let on who you are."

"I have no intention of advertising," he said gritting his teeth.

"My last name is Dolohov, Antonin was my uncle." She lowered her head. "It will take them time to forget. Don't use your name, it will make it easier."

Turning back to her, he nodded. "Thank you Miss Dolohov for the advice."

"Please, Helen. My name is Helen."

"Vincent," he said, and then opened the door to leave.

"Vincent." She nodded to him and watched as he walked out.

He went to Gringotts to close his parent's accounts only to find the Ministry had already taken control of them. He had his own vaults, but the majority of the money was gone. He travelled down underground and inspected what was left, finding very little other than the gold that would last him only a few years.

His inheritance from his grandparents was intact. He could not touch it until he was twenty-five, still six years away. The Goblins had warned him of pending laws that could strip him of even this, he would just have to wait and see.

He returned home thinking of what he would do. He had never thought of gaining employment. He had never thought beyond the present day, and what Draco had wanted him to do. He had never thought.

In his world it was a given that he would follow his father in his work for the Dark Lord. They were a rich and old family, the interest alone would keep them in the life style they wanted. Now, all that was gone. He still owned the house. However, he would not be able to pay its upkeep for more than a few short years.

He went down to the dungeons and looked at the pile of dark objects Elsie had hidden behind a false wall. He thought momentarily of taking them to Knockturn Alley to sell, and then scowled at the thought. He did not know what to do with the items, but he knew he would not fall back into the dark world that had gotten him in this position.

Returning to his new bedroom, he changed back into his pyjama bottoms and soft tee. He opened his mother's old closet and saw her gowns still hung in pristine condition. She had never worn many of the shimmering dresses and elaborate robes. He shook his head at the waste and decided to see what Elsie had piled in the library.

He saw piles of clothing, which he dispatched at once to St. Mungos. He had read in the Daily Prophet that they were in need of clothing and personal effects for the many still homeless in the aftermath of the war. Elsie made several trips hauling the robes and other items before she was at last done.

"The books Master?" Elsie looked at the piles of books not kept on the library's shelves.

"These can be taken to Hogwarts." He indicated two stacks of simple books and old texts that must have been his mothers.

"Leave the rest for now." He picked up one of the history books and walked to the window. "Elsie, those glasses the Healer was sending. Have they come yet?"

"Yes Master."

"Fetch them, and I will take my dinner in here tonight." Vincent sat in a chair by the window, and transfigured a footrest. He opened the book and started to read. He was still at it long into the night when he finally laid his head back and fell asleep in the chair.

For the next two months, Vincent did not leave the house. He read, walked the grounds, and slowly cleared the house of items he no longer needed, or that reminded him of his parents. He found an old potions journal in the desk drawer. Opening up the cover, he read the inscription on the inside.

For Severus Snape:

Upon completion of his Masters

Minerva McGonagall.

Vincent scowled and traced the inscription with his finger. Snape, the blood traitor had left it here. He opened the journal and tried to ferret out what the potions were, however his potions skills did not help. He could decipher only that the potions were for healing, and not harmful or dark. Glancing at the clock, he picked up the journal and headed for Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

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**Rebirth**

**Chapter 2**

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Vincent looked up at the castle, lowering his head as he walked up to the main doors. He was glad the Holiday's were here, the halls would at least be empty of students. He did not relish what he was about to do.

He made his way to the Headmasters Office, looking at the damage that still showed as he walked though the halls, and up the unmoving and un-warded staircase. At the top of the stairs, he paused as he looked into the office and saw Professor McGonagall at the desk. Only now, it was Headmistress McGonagall.

"Headmistress?" He waited unsure before entering the office.

"Yes?" Minerva looked up from the parchment on the desk in front of her. "May I help you?"

Vincent reached into his cloak and pulled out the journal, then crossing the room he set it in front of her.

"Oh my," she said softly.

"I found it, in an old desk." He stood without moving. "I thought you may like to keep it."

"Mr.?" Minerva looked up at the hooded wizard.

"Crabbe." He pushed his hood back and watched her face change from curiosity to horror.

"Mr Crabbe, I am surprised you had the nerve to come here." She stood behind her desk.

"Professor, I just," he said as he stumbled for the right words. "I needed to come here. I didn't know…"

"Mr Crabbe." She pointed at the door. "I suggest you leave here."

"I wanted to tell you I am sorry." He looked down at the floor. "I don't expect you to forgive me, or to forget what happened, but I wanted to tell you anyway."

"Mr Crabbe," she snipped. "I am aware that you …"

"No," he snapped at her. "You know nothing. You know nothing of what they forced me to do. I am not saying they forced me to hex the students, or all the things I did here, but I never thought I had a choice in this war. I did what I was supposed to do. It's all I could do."

"Mr Crabbe, many students were given the same choices you were given and made better selections." She sat back down and picked up the journal.

"Snape didn't." Vincent looked directly at her and nodded at the journal. "The only difference is that he had time, time to make it up."

"Is that what you want Mr Crabbe?" She looked at him evenly. "You want to make up for your transgressions?"

"My what?" He looked at her confused.

"Transgressions, Mr Crabbe." Minerva wanted to roll her eyes. "It means…"

"I know what it means." He looked back at her coldly. "I'll bet that Draco is back in good graces. The Malfoy's could always pick the opportune time to make better choices couldn't they? Tell me, was it before or after the Dark Lord fell that they changed their path? Was it Lucius or Narcissa that saved the family? My money is on Narcissa."

"Mr Crabbe, that is uncalled for."

"Sure. I was not in the position to change sides at the last minute." He looked around the office and then turned and walked out of the office hearing Minerva calling him back.

He felt tears in his eyes and did not want to face her this way. He had to get out, to go some place that he could feel safe in, somewhere he would feel accepted. He could think of only one person who had treated him civilly and was not at all sure why he should want to see her.

He walked back into the wand shop and saw Helen again on a ladder with a dust rag in her hand attempting to clean.

"Magic works," he chuckled at her face as she scowled down at him.

"Yeah, sure." She nodded toward the shelf in the back, which had all the boxes tossed to a pile on the floor in front of it. "All it takes is one wand, with a similar core to reject the spell, and that is what I get."

"One would think you could store all the wands with a like core on a separate shelf," he ginned at her, pushing back his hood.

"So, where were you an hour ago when I could have used your help?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

"Thinking of collecting you for lunch," he tried to sound confident and at ease.

"Right," she smirked. "I can see a Crabbe and a Dolohov walking in together. The Aurors will be renting up the next table."

"How do you come to work here?" He looked around the shop again, realizing he had yet to see Mr. Ollivander.

"He decided not to reopen," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I had some money that the Ministry didn't take, so I bought him out."

"You own it then?" He raised his eyebrow at her.

"I learned to make wands in Germany, and then did a year in Italy." She smiled at the look on his face. "My grandfather made wands I learned from him."

"What about school?" He watched as she picked up her cloak and threw it over her shoulders.

"Home schooled," she said grinning. "They didn't want me mixing with the wrong sort."

"Yeah, I guess we both got stung on that one. So, how about Tom's for that lunch?"

"Sure, since you are the only customer I have had in three days I don't think I will be missed." She walked over to the door and flipped the sign to read Closed.

She and Vincent walked down the pavement not talking, he with his hood pulled firmly down to hide his face, she with her chin held firmly up refusing to hide. She stole glances at him and when they finally had taken a seat at the Leaky Cauldron decided to say what was on her mind.

"Your face is not that bad you know," she said boldly. "You could leave your hood down."

"It's not the scars," he said quietly. "I don't want to be bothered."

"Then just tell everyone to fuck off," she grinned seeing his head snap up when she swore. "You shouldn't let them win."

Vincent looked at her without saying anything until Tom laid down their lunch and walked away from the table. Slowly reaching up he pushed back the hood.

"I feel fine in front of people I know," he said softly. "It's the ones I don't know that I am nervous around."

They talked though lunch about childhood and school, comparing what classes he had taken to what she had studied at home. Vincent was surprised at the extent of her learning.

"I never paid much attention to school," he admitted. "It was a given I was going to work for the Malfoy's. I never had to worry about O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T. exams."

"What do you plan on doing now?" Helen asked as she took a bite from her sandwich. "I am sure the Ministry didn't leave you with anything more then they left me."

"I thought to sell the house."

"You won't get much for it." She shook her head at him. "I tried to get rid of some property myself. You may as well plan on keeping it a while until the market comes back."

"I am not even sure I could sell it," he paused. "A Crabbe has been in that house for eight generations. That may sound stupid, but its mine, and … I don't know. It just doesn't seem right to let it go."

"You could try to lease it." She signalled to Tom that they were done. "If you could lease an apartment for less than you get, you would have some extra each month."

"Even so, I can't sell it for years. It is tied up in the Estate my Grandparents set up." He told her some of what Gringotts had informed him. "I guess they wanted to skip my father and leave it to me."

"Wise, maybe they suspected something would happen like this."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't know them. They died in the first war."

"I hear that Hogwarts is allowing the students that missed last year to make up their N.E.W.T. exams. Maybe you could take the test and see what happens."

"Yeah," he snorted, "I can see that now. The stupidest kid in school wants to take his test."

"You have a year to study." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You could get a tutor and study you know."

"Right." He shook his head. "I am sure I can just walk into the school and everyone would flock to help me."

Helen stood with Vincent as he put enough Galleons on the table to cover the bill Tom had left. A he started to raise his hood Helen reached out and stopped his hand.

"Leave it." She turned for the door as he shrugged and followed.

They walked toward the wand shop not talking. Vincent kept his head lowered, more out of habit than to hide his face. He became aware of his posture as they passed the shop fronts and saw his reflection. He raised his head and frowned. He realized this was how others saw him, and for the first time in his life wanted more than to be accepted as someone else's loyal follower, but his own person. He stopped and looked at himself until Helen gently pulled on his arm.

"Is something wrong Vincent?"

"No, I was just thinking…" He turned to her suddenly. "I have to get back to the house. I have something I have to do."

"Sure." She looked at him puzzled. "Stop in sometimes, and thanks for lunch."

He turned and rushed off to the apparation point where he looked around quickly feeling a strange prickling. Seeing Draco across the road watching him, he made no indication that he knew the blond haired wizard as he spun away.

"Elsie," he called as he entered the front door. "Floo the Ministry, get someone over here and be quick about it."

"Master?" Elsie ran to the floo, looking back in question.

"Tell them I have things I have found. Tell them I am cleaning house. Tell them you didn't know about the secrete wall."

He threw his robes on the chair then walked to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of firewhiskey, knocking it back and pouring his second before replacing the bottle. He watched Elsie on her knees in front of the floo talking to some one. Elsie stood up and turned to look at him.

"They is coming through," she said stepping away from the fireplace as two Ministry officials stepped into the room.

"Mr Weasley?" Vincent looked at who could only be Ronald's father. "I think we met once, at Hogwarts."

"Mr. Crabbe." Arthur held out his hand to Vincent with a kindly smile.

Vincent stepped up to Arthur and shook his hand, thankful that an unknown Auror had not been sent.

"This is my assistant, Mr Miller." Arthur stepped out of the way to wave the second Ministry official forward.

"Mr Crabbe," he said. "Arthur here said you have some items for us."

"Yes," Vincent said as he watched Elsie walk backwards from the room. "I have been clearing the house out and have come across some rather dark items you may be interested in. If you will follow me to the dungeons."

Vincent walked out of the room and down to the end of the hallway. There he pressed a panel in the wall, and tapped it with his wand opening a different set of stairs then the Ministry had first discovered leading down under the house. This was the original dungeon where Elsie hid the illegal items.

"Gentlemen." Vincent stepped aside to allow Arthur and his companion to go first.

"I am sure you will understand Vincent," Arthur said kindly. "We will follow you."

Vincent nodded, and started down the stairs realizing that Arthur did not trust him. He held his new wand lightly and uttered 'Nox" as the descended deeper under the main house. Once at the bottom of the stairs he opened the ancient door to the cell that held the boot.

"As you can see, there are things that must be carefully handled," he said stepping deeper into the room. "These things just came to my attention this morning."

"Mr Crabbe, do you have any idea what you have here?" Arthur held a book in his hand and slowly turning the pages. "This is very interesting."

"Mr Weasley," Vincent chuckled. "Do you really think I could decipher ancient potions and spells?"

Arthur turned red. "I did not mean that as an insult Vincent. We have been looking for this book since before the first war."

"What is it?"

"This explains how the Dark Marks were created and activated." Arthur looked up from the book to Vincent. "With this we can locate the rogue Death Eaters Mr Crabbe. The Ministry will owe you a debt of appreciation."

"I expect nothing, Mr Weasley, except to be left alone."

"I am afraid we will be unable to do that for the next few days." Arthur looked at the pile of magical items in front of him. "These pensives alone will generate many questions. We may need for you to visit them with us to identify the who and the where."

Vincent looked at the odd assortment of pensives strewn across the room and felt ill. Knowing his father's taste in torture, he was not sure he could do what was asked. These memories would show more than the simple and bloodless Cruciatus Curse; these memories would show the true horrors of the Dark Lords appetites.

Arthur and his companion picked up other items and looked at Vincent, both wondering how much the youth knew of what was contained. Arthur saw several vials that the held up to the light and examined, frowning when he thought he identified the contents.

"Mr Crabbe," he said. "What can you tell me of these?"

"I don't know." Vincent shrugged. "Listen, I don't know what half this stuff if for. I never got that heavily involved in anything more than, well, I was like the bodyguard. It was my job to sort of watch over Draco Malfoy."

"You will forgive us if we don't believe that," Mr Miller said.

"Now Alex." Arthur turned to him. "Mr Crabbe has called us here of his own free will. We can at least offer him some appreciation."

"Yeah," Alex Miller smirked. "You believe he doesn't know what this stuff is for?"

Arthur looked at Vincent then turned back to Alex. "Yes, yes I do."

"Fine, we take the book and the blood with us." Alex took the vials from Arthur, holding them to the light as if he could see to whom it belonged. "We will send the Aurors to collect the rest."

"I trust that meets with your wishes Mr Crabbe?" Arthur asked.

"Of course, if I am out Elsie will open the door for you." Vincent walked out of the cell and back upstairs. "Elsie, see the gentlemen out."

Vincent went to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He took deep breaths, sitting heavily on the side of his bed. He felt as if he was going to be sick, and lowered his head to stop the spinning. He had forgotten about the blood. The blood that his father had taken from his victims. He did not know the purpose, only to see it still liquid, still viable sickened him.

"Master?" Elsie called to him softly.

"Not now." He sat with his head lowered. "No, wait. Do you know what the blood was for?"

"No, Master."

"Leave me." Vincent waited until he heard the pop of Elsie's leave taking, he then laid down on the bed to sleep. He was suddenly tired, and had over estimated the energy that today would take from his still healing body.

He lay on the bed staring at the ceiling thinking about what he would do next. He closed his eyes, bringing his arm up and laying it across his eyes. He sought sleep but gave up after a while, knowing that once again it was lost to him. Getting up again, he took up the history book he had been trying to read and settling back in his chair, opened it to the first page and started over.

Vincent read over what he had already read, this time making sense of what he found on the pages. He frowned and called Elsie to bring him parchment and quill to write down the words he was unsure of, suddenly determined to pass at least one N.E.W.T level exam.

He thought history would be the easiest of the several exams. Looking at the calendar, and the shelf that contained the books he would have to read, he sighed and shook his head. Then, picking up the quill, he began.

"Master?" Elsie stood with a tray of food.

"I did not ask for anything Elsie." He scowled at her.

"Yous need to eat. Yous too thin."

"Elsie, if it is one thing I am not, it is too thin." Vincent frowned at her.

"Yes Master, since you accident you too thin."

"It was not an accident. Don't refer to it as if it was," he scowled at her, and looked at the food tray. He had not regained his appetite since his convalescence and the food only made him feel nauseous.

"Leave me Elsie, just leave me be." He turned back to his book and continued to study.

It took him two weeks to complete the book, and one more to read it again, pleased that he did not need the quill and dictionary to go through it this time. He started on the second tomb, and found it easier than the first.

He went to Diagon Alley to find a book that was referenced when he reached the third volume. He did not wear his hood this time and found people did not stare at him, or avoid him on the pavement. He had just purchased his reference when he turned and spotted Draco Malfoy.

Draco was leaning up against a bookcase, leafing though a book, of what Crabbe could not tell from where he stood. Draco looked up, as if aware of eyes upon him, and seeing Crabbe he merely nodded and returned to his book.

Vincent's back grew stiff, he fought the urge to rail at the blond wizard, to vent and allow his rage to show. Instead, he turned and walked out the door calmly. Catching his reflection in the window, he almost smiled.

Gone was the heavy youth, the short hair, and the vacant eyed look. Here was a rather tall and lank wizard, with piercing eyes and long hair, caught up in a leather tie. Gone was any visage of youth, any resemblance of gaiety or humour. He grinned realizing that Draco had not recognized him.

Vincent headed to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, and as he was passing the wand shop, he opened the door and walked in, thinking to collect Helen. Looking up he saw the bell missing from over the door. He did not see her when he stepped in, and found the shop too quiet, too still. Slowly sliding his hand into his pocket, and retrieving his wand, he stalked to the back room.

Muffled sounds, moans and soft thumps came to him. He paused, not wanting to disturb Helen if she was with someone and busily engaged. He was ready to leave when he heard her muffled cries, and throwing the curtain back he saw a familiar black robe and half-silver mask holding Helen against the wall, a wand at the throat, and a hand ripping at her clothing.

Without thinking, his wand stretched out in front of him, and the first curse that came to his mind flew from his mouth. _Avada Kedavra _and a flash of green light followed his wands movement.

Hurrying over to Helen, he helped her up from where she had slumped to the floor.

"Helen?" Vincent whispered. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him in tears. Her hand went to her throat where bruises were already beginning to show, and then her arms went out around his neck.

"Vincent," she cried. "He surprised me. I came back here to get my cloak and he was here, waiting. He just grabbed me, and…"

"It's done now." Vincent took her arms down from his neck and stepped back to look at her better. "Are you okay?"

She nodded at him as the sound of footsteps and yells came from the front. "I guess I won't be able to take you to lunch today." He tried to smile.

The curtains ripped back and two Aurors stood with wands pulled. Taking in the scene in front of them, they quickly disarmed Vincent with a simple "Accio, Wand," and separated him from Helen. One taking Helen to the front of the shop to question her, and the second to ask Vincent what had happened.

Looking at the body on the floor, the Auror tucked Vincent's wand into his pocket, and with a flick of his wand bound Vincent's hands behind his back.

"Talk." He pointed his wand at Vincent. "It better be good."

"Merlin's sake man, it's a Death Eater, what do you think happened?" Vincent sneered.

"That's what I need to hear from you."

"I just walked in and found him attacking Miss Dolohov." Vincent struggled against the ropes.

"How do you know Miss Dolohov?'

"We are just…" he said, then paused. "I bought my wand from her."

"I am afraid Mr..?"

"Crabbe, Vincent Crabbe." He saw the look that came over the Aurors face.

"Did you know him?" The Auror nodded toward the body on the floor.

"No," Vincent said with a hiss.

"I am afraid that the use of an Unforgivable is not tolerated at any time, for any reason." He looked back at the curtain. "I know what was happening here, but there are other spells you could have used."

"I didn't…" Vincent licked his lips and looked around. "I just said the first thing I thought of. He was going to …, he was going to hurt her."

"Hurt me?" Helen came though the curtains and stood in front of Vincent. "He was going to rape me, then kill me. They are still out to get the 'blood traitors,' you know that."

"Yeah, I also know what the Crabbe's are like." He sneered at her. "Listen Miss _Dolohov, _if you know what's good for you, stay out of this."

"Stay out of this?" She looked at him incredulously. "He did this to save me, in my shop. How would you suggest I stay out of this?"

"Helen," Vincent said roughly, not taking his eyes off the Auror. "Stop. Just lock up for the day, go home."

"He's right," the Auror said, smiling. "He won't be going anywhere except for Azkaban."

"Azkaban? When is his trial?" She demanded.

"Helen," Vincent said. "I will not see a trial. Will I?"

"Not once we test your wand and verify the last spell."

Vincent nodded and walked past the Auror out to the front of the shop where the other Auror stood ginning at him.

"I remember you Crabbe," he smirked. "It's about time you got what's coming to you."

Vincent Crabbe only nodded and walked to the door where he stopped and waited for the Auror to open the door. Then stepping outside he raised his chin to feel the sun on his face and wondered if anyone would miss him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

* * *

**OK, so I said it was complete and here I am at this story again. I just could not leave him sitting in Azkaban. Helen is quite persuasive when she puts her mind to something and if she wants to try to help who am I to tell her no. Geesh.**

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Helen watched as they apparated from the front of the shop in a rumble to thunder. Show offs, she thought, pursing her lips together. She flipped the sign over to Closed and rushed to grab her wand and cloak. Hurrying to the pavement, she glared at the other shopkeepers that had come out to see what the trouble was and stood whispering and pointing. She started running toward one of the apparation points then decided if the Aurors could disturb the peace so would she.

She turned back to the audience that was gathering in small groups staring at her, and turning as slowly as she could to make the most noise possible, she spun out of the Alley and to the Ministry.

She had been here several times during the trials but still was uncomfortable and ill at ease under the cold high ceilings and tiled halls. Following the few others that were visiting the Ministry, she found the queue and surrendered her wand for inspection. Waiting for the clerk to weigh and measure it before returning it to her she was a little surprised to find an Auror suddenly on each side.

"Miss Dolohov?"

"Yes?" She stepped back and scowled.

"I am Marcus, Marcus McCollin, and this is Stephen Flair." He took her elbow and pulled her out of the queue. "I am afraid I can not allow you to have your wand while in this building."

"I have never had it taken before." She frowned and pulled her arm from him angrily. "What is this, some new law?"

"You may say that Miss Dolohov," Stephen said slowly. "We have a list of family names that are not known to be sympathetic to the cause. Since the Dolohov name is…"

"Fine, keep it." She snapped at him. "I expect it back when I leave."

"Of course Miss Dolohov ," Marcus was quick to assure her. "Now, we will accompany you to your destination."

"I think I can find my own way." She spun on her heel and started toward the elevators that would take her down to the intake division of Auror's arrest process.

"He is not there," Marcus said. "He is going straight to Azkaban."

"I am sure he gets a trial." She tapped her foot and folded her arms as she looked up at the floor indicator.

"No, not anymore. The courts are over loaded and the straight forward cases are resolved by internal decisions of the Ministry."

"Straight forward? If this were straight forward he would not be here."

"Miss Dolohov, if you have a complaint you may file it in the complaint department."

"No, I need to talk to someone now."

Stephen snorted his laughter. "Come back in a year or two when things calm down."

"Listen Miss Dolohov." Marcus shot Stephen a hard look. "Leave your name with the front receptionist, ask for an appointment."

"They won't let you in down there," Stephen added. "They were called when you checked in."

Helen turned and scowled at them, going back to the reception area she grabbed her wand from the clerk who had watched the argument and had her wand waiting. Continuing to the appointment desk she stopped to read the notice on the door.

"Shite." She said aloud, reading that all requests for appointments would be by owl only, and no appointments were available for nine months.

She returned to her shop and started to enter when she stepped back and just stood looking at the half glass door. She was afraid to go in, afraid that someone may be waiting in the dark aisles or in the back room as they had before. She looked down the darkening pavement, taking in the shops that were still open, and knew that none of them would be willing to help some one with the Dolohov name.

She stepped further back and looked up at the top floor windows where her apartment was. Pulling her cloak close around her, she started down to the Leaky Cauldron scrubbing the heel of her hand into her eyes wishing she were not so easy to cry.

"Shite!"

She tapped the bricks, stepped into the small yard behind the back door, and reached to open it when a drunken wizard stumbled out pushing her back.

"Sorry," he said, trying to stand straight.

"Yeah." She sneered at him, hurried to the door, and stepped through. She looked back to see him raise a handless right arm and salute her.

"I am truly sorry me dear." He staggered back. "A little to much drink is all."

"Are you Okay?" She said stepping back out. "Can you make it home yourself?"

"Ah yes, as a matter o fact." He put his head back and laughed. "I, you see, have been practicing. All most got it right you know."

He turned and tapped out the pattern on the bricks perfectly the fist time and then staggered back to the Alley.

"You plan on holding that door open all night?" Tom stood wiping his hands on a bar towel looking down on her with a frown.

"Oh sorry." She went in and closed the door behind her.

"Kitchen is closed and the last call for drinks is already out, so you best hurry." He turned to walk back into the nearly empty pub room.

"No, Tom… I … I need a room," she stammered looking around.

"I don't think so." He looked her over. "You live a two minute walk from here, and you don't have any luggage. What kind of place do you think this is? Have him take you some place else."

"You bastard," she hissed and felt a sudden rush and tears spring to her eyes.

"Listen, Miss Dolohov…"

"Listen to your arse, it must be what does your talking."

Tom reached out to grab her arm and hold her so he could finish the apology he had started. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew what he had said was wrong. He had seen her face change so quickly and then her tears.

He held her by the elbow and fought for the proper words not wanting to ruin it this time. .

"Don't," she hissed and pulled back, rushed out the back door, and began tapping the bricks only to stop and start over again. She dropped her right arm lowering her wand and using her left to wipe her face, she cursed the fact that she was crying again.

Tom's wand came over her shoulder and tapped the bricks for her. They stood watching the bricks slide and the door open.

"I am scared," she said. "That's why I came here. I don't have any one… I was scared…so I…I have no place to go."

She stepped through the wall and back into the Alley, walking slowly back to the shop, keeping her eyes down and furiously wiping the tears when she heard a second set of footfalls and spun around, wand drawn.

"Miss Dolohov, I am sorry." Tom stopped and looked at her. "I guess I am not as unbiased as I like to think myself to be."

"Thanks …Tom, I just … I thought maybe in the morning, in the light…I am by myself you see… I don't have any one to help."

"We all heard what happened today." Tom ran his hand though his hair. "Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to know Crabbe attacked you, him and that other piece of filth."

"No, it wasn't like that at all." She walked over to him and shook her head. "A Death Eater was in the back room, he was waiting for me. When… then he grabbed me. Vincent just happened to come in and hear."

.

"I heard they were together."

"Well you heard wrong." She pulled her cloak back from her throat showing him the bruises. "He said he was going to … well, that he wanted to kill me, and then Vincent was there and threw a curse. It was so fast."

"Now you think another Death Eater is after you?"

"I'm foolish, I know." She looked up at the windows on the top floor again. "But I can't go in there."

"Lower the wards and stay behind me." He grinned and stepped up to the door. "Or I can charge you for a room and do this in the morning."

"Arse," she grinned as she used her wand to bring down the wards.

"I am surprised young Crabbe did not inspect the apartment for you. He trained as one of the Malfoy body guards I would think he would be more careful."

"They put him in Azkaban. He used an unforgivable," she frowned and stopped walking. "They were here awful fast. Vincent didn't have time to do anything."

Tom turned to her and scowled. "Azkaban? He saved you from a Death Eater and he is in Azkaban?"

"That is why I closed early. I went to the Ministry to see what I could do, but he doesn't even get a trial. They took him directly there."

Tom stepped into the shop and shouted a Lumos spell, loud enough and strong enough to light the candles both upstairs and in the storage room below. He then cast a Patronus to search the space, grinning he watched Helen from the corner of this eye.

"It's faster. A Patronus couldn't stop them, or harm them, but it lets me know if anyone is about."

Helen pulled her own wand and walked though the shop with him. Then following him up stairs she stood in the doorway as he checked the small sitting area that held a kitchenette in one corner. He opened the only door to the loo and then turned back to her.

"Bedroom?"

She pointed to the sofa and grinned. "Easy to clean, no upkeep, a real delight, at least that is what they told me when I bought this place."

"Quite a change for you I would imagine." Tom looked around at the sparse apartment, noticing not only the small space but also the lack of personal items.

"Not as much of a change as Vincent is going through tonight." She threw her cloak on the sofa, walked to the kitchen, and started to make a pot of tea.

"I only just met him. He bought a new wand, we had lunch together. And then he gets tossed in prison because of me."

"It was only a matter of time." Tom walked to the window and looked out.

"I see. That must be your unbiased opinion talking again."

"We lost a lot of good people in that war."

"We both did. I can safely say that the families of Death Eaters gave much more than will ever be known. Good people lived on both sides." She placed her palms on the table top and sighed. "The families of Death Eaters not loyal to their cause were never listed as a casualty of war. Wives had accidents, and children caught fevers, they died all the same."

Tom stood with his hand in his pockets looking at her, trying to judge how truthful she was. He walked to the door and started down the stairs to check the storerooms in the basement not knowing what to say to her.

Helen poured two cups of tea and set them on the only table in the room. She sat to wait for him and sipped her tea. Then, pulling her wand, she cast wards at the window to strengthen what was already there feeling foolish for doing it, but doing it all the same.

"Helen?" Tom's voice came up from the storerooms. "I need you down here."

She hurried down to the street level and then began down to the cellar when she stopped and felt a coldness and a sudden fear.

"Tom?" She called from the top of the stairs, peering down into darker storeroom.

"Here." Tom came into view and looked up at her. "It's ok Helen, I found how he got in. I need you to reset the wards."

Helen walked down the stairs feeling uneasy and suddenly not trusting Tom. She held her wand tightly and stayed as close to the wall as possible.

"Helen?" Tom looked at her oddly. "Helen, I need you to put down your wand."

She kept her wand aimed at him, pressing her back against the cold stone of the cellar. She licked her lips and looked around for the sound she could hear coming from the darkness

"Shhhh." She crouched down sweeping her eyes across the floor.

"Helen? Give it to me, or just lay it down"

She smiled at him, laughing at his face and feeling colder than she had at any time in her life. Her breath came short in quick gasps. She could hear waves crashing against ears and knew she would soon be unable to stand.

"Tom." She whispered and looked around again, as the room became colder still as she fought not to use her wand, bringing up her free hand to hold it with both. "Leave, hurry, hurry."

Tom leaned to hear her, seeing her wand rise and her eyes grow flat. His own Accico Wand hit her before her spell was completely out of her mouth and before she could complete the unforgivable arc of her own willow wand. He rushed over to her, squatted down, pulling her up to a sitting position and looking into her face.

She was cold, very cold. He leaned down and was relieved to hear her breathe, but knew it was too shallow, and too weak to keep her alive long. Shoving both wands in his pocket and picking her up he rushed out side to apparate to St Mungo's.

.

.

.

He paced outside of the Examining Room waiting for some news from the Healer. He replayed the whole evening in his mind trying to find a clue as to what happened. Hearing footsteps in the hall and spun around, expecting the Healer only to see two Aurors coming toward him.

"Tom!" Marcus reached out and shook hands. "They didn't say who she was with. You know Stephen?"

"Stephen," Tom nodded and then turned to a small sitting area. "In here."

"So, I guess we have another one." Marcus smiled.

"Another one?" Tom looked at him confused.

"A few hours ago her boy friend was sent to Azkaban. Seems he caught her with her lover and cast an unforgivable," Marcus chuckled.

"Now she tosses one at you," Stephen grinned. "What was it Tom? Did you tell her no?"

"Her lover? Hey, you guys got this way off." Tom shook his head and looked between the two. "Who were the original Aurors on this?"

"The file is misplaced, or just not completed yet. I couldn't find it before we came." Marcus looked at Tom and folded his arms. "Shacklebolt has spent months cleaning out the ranks. Don't go there Tom, its not one of ours. The file is only misplaced, no one took it."

"Some one better go through the ranks again." Tom stood up pushing the chair back so hard it fell to the floor. "Someone best get their heads out of their arses and find out what is happening here and do it tonight."

"It's nothing that can't wait until morning."

"If you have sent an innocent nineteen year old boy to Azkaban, and put him anywhere near former Death Eaters I would suggest you do it an hour ago."

"We will look into it." Marcus looked at Stephen nervously. "Would she agree to a pensive?"

"Agree? She can't even talk." Tom raged at them.

"She can now," the Healer said from the door. "She is awake and just upset."

The Healers lip twitched. "She is currently cursing the pillows. Seems she thinks they are trying to suffocate her. Should be over in just a few more minutes. We had the antidote."

"Antidote? She was poisoned?" Marcus raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, most assuredly. Rather a nasty concoction." The healer took off his glasses and cleaned them on his jacket. "It does kill eventually, but its real purpose is to bring on hallucinations and fear in the hopes that the victim takes someone with them. Sort of a two for one."

"Where does this poison come from?" Marcus scowled and looked back at Tom.

"We saw a lot during the war. It was used against what the Death Eaters referred to as Family Traitors. We don't see it much anymore. Snape, one of your friends, came up the antidote."

"Healer?" A small Mediwitch wearing clown shoes and a red nose stood glaring at the Healer. "I think it is safe to go in now. She seems to have used all the spells she can do with out a wand. If you have nothing further, I shall just go down to the Spell Reversal Ward now."

The four wizards stood and watched as she walked away and waited at the elevator to carry her down to the Reversal Ward. They bit their lips and choked until the door slid closed.

"Bet her Mum says she has a great personality," Marcus said.

They burst into laughter until Tom remembered he would be the next to go into the room.

"I hope she was right about this." He looked at the ceiling as he walked to the Examining Room hoping he did not have any of his features changed.

Marcus and Stephen talked to the Healer before leaving, taking notes and learning as much as they could about the poison. Thanking the Healer, they walked to the same elevator that the mediwitch had used.

"Have you ever woken Shacklebolt in the middle of the night before?" Stephen asked nervously.

"Just once." Marcus looked up at the floor indicator over the sliding doors. "It's not pretty."

.

.

.

"Helen?" Tom peeked around the curtains that draped the bed.

"It's safe." She was sitting on the edge of the examining table swinging her legs. "So, I guess I made sort of a fool of my self."

"No." Tom laughed. "However, there is one Mediwitch here that you should avoid for a while."

"Oh gods," she put her hands over her face and groaned. "I couldn't stop myself. I learned these spells at a friends birthday party. I must have been ten at the time. Good gods."

"You seem better now."

"I can leave as soon as I pee." She looked up at him and shrugged. "I guess they literally wash the poison out of your system or something."

"You had me scared there in the cellar."

"I wanted to kill you Tom. I mean, I really wanted to kill you."

"Before you go back in I want to check it again. And, you do have to set new wards in the cellar. That old shed in the back used to have a tunnel to the cellar. It should have been closed off years ago."

"A tunnel? I want it filled in and warded as well." She jumped of the examining table and sat in one of the two chairs that stood against the wall.

"I made tea," she said.

"Umm, it's no doubt cold by now."

"No, I made tea. That's where the Healer said it came from." She leaned her head against the wall and yawned. "I wish I could pee."

They sat side by side looking at the clock. He whistled, she tapped her foot, they both sighed every time they heard footsteps that came down the hall but did not stop or enter the room.

"I hate hospitals." She yawned again and then stood up when she saw the knob of the door turn.

Marcus walked in first and turning back to the hallway, he stepped aside letting Vincent come into the room.

* * *

**AN: Ok drinehart, if I worked for Palin I would have let him be tortured or sent to a country that allows it, even if organs are damaged. (slaps self)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not Mine.**

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

"Vincent!" Helen cried and ran, throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, sit down. You look like shite."

'Thanks Marcus." Tom shook the Aurors' hand as Helen led Vincent to the chair he had just vacated.

"He looks a little rough for only a few hours." Tom nodded to the boy.

"Yeah, that's why I brought him here. I had him in emergency. They said he took a beating but it wasn't too bad." The Auror looked over to Vincent. "He won't say who, so I guess it ends. We can't press charges without a name."

"Not likely to get one." Tom turned back to the two now seated in the chairs. "If that one has learned anything it is to take what you get and shut up about it."

"I only have a couple of questions for the report." Marcus nodded toward Helen. "I can see she gets home."

"I'd appreciate it. I have to be up in a few hours." Tom walked over and squatted down in front of Helen and Vincent. "Listen, Marcus will see you two home. I am going to be running along."

"Thanks Tom." Helen blushed. "I guess you didn't know what you were getting into when you opened my door."

"No, but I am glad that you didn't already have a grudge against me. You managed to fight it off."

"Tom?" Vincent looked at him oddly. "What am I missing here? I was just told that Helen ate something that did not agree with her."

"Well Helen, it seems that you have someone to talk to. This ought to fill in the time until you can pee." Tom laughed and left them alone, signalling Marcus to join him in the hallway.

Stepping out of the room Tom pulled Marcus down the hall so as not to be heard.

"They could not have known she would make tea." Tom frowned as he spoke quietly to the Auror. "She had coffee and some of that Muggle soda on her table."

"We are going through her apartment, or room is more like it," Marcus shook his head and chuckled. "Must be hard for a Dolohov to live like the rest of us."

"Leave it be Marcus, I thought the same, but she seems decent."

"Well, we did get the truth from him. So, there is nothing to hold him on yet."

"He does not carry the Mark," Tom frowned. "Leave him alone unless you have something on him."

"Yeah, because it was burnt off," Marcus sneered at Tom. "You think I believe that nonsense about him being in that fire at Hogwarts? Bloody Hell man, he did that to himself to get rid of the Mark."

"Harry Potter himself, and Draco Malfoy both say he was in the fire. Surely you don't think they are both lying."

"No, I am sure someone was in there, but not Crabbe. For all we know Goyle put someone in there just to throw us off the truth."

"Marcus, what worries me right now is that someone already had a story fabricated to float when you showed up."

"What story?"

"What you believed. That she and Crabbe were lovers."

"We don't know that part isn't true."

"Oh come on Marcus." Tom ran his hand through his hair. "They were in the Leaky Cauldron, I saw them together. Trust me, they are not lovers."

"They could be fooling you."

"Vincent?" Tom chuckled and shook his head. "Not likely Marcus. Helen maybe, but not Vincent. If he had been in her knickers the whole room would have known it."

"Thank you Tom." They both turned to the door to see Vincent watching them. "I am sure you meant that kinder than it sounded. I will warn you however, not to repeat that within Helen's hearing."

"Vince," Tom looked at the floor before meeting his eyes. "I only meant that you were incapable of hiding your feelings."

"That or too stupid," Vince said stonily.

"Okay guys," Helen said hurrying into the hallway. "I can go, I managed to pee."

"I am so glad for you," Marcus sneered. "Miss Dolohov your premises have been searched again and all food and drinks destroyed. I will accompany you back myself to make sure the premises have not been tampered with and to give you a few moments to set up temporary wards."

"Sure," she said hesitantly. "I've been thinking. I have been here for a few months. Why would any one want to poison me now?"

"Any number of Death Eaters would want you dead," Vincent scowled. "You are said to be a blood traitor."

"And any number of those on the side of the light may not believe that," Tom added thoughtfully.

"I know that." She rolled her eyes. "The thing is, I have not used that brand of tea since the day Vincent and I went to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Tom's tasted so much better I stopped on the way home and picked up the kind he serves."

"So, you think it was someone wanting me?" Vincent asked. "Someone that saw us that day?"

"I don't know Vincent, either they wanted me to kill you, or you me. It wouldn't make much difference I guess."

"While you figure this out, check everything you eat," Tom said. "And, I need to get going."

"Thanks again Tom." Helen stood on the toes and kissed him on the cheek. "There, now I have two lovers."

She laughed and took Vincent's arm and they started walking toward the elevator.

"Vince, make sure you test all your food at home." She looked up at him concern evident on her face.

"You have not lived in a Death Eaters home for a long time." He smirked at her. "The Crabbe elves check every thing we eat, even the water we drink."

"Then who ever did this would know that," she mused. "That should narrow it down to a Death Eater."

"Or someone that had been in their homes."

"A guest?"

"Not always." He looked at Marcus and pulled his arm back. "This is where I will leave you. Marcus, if you will have Mr Weasley contact me tomorrow, perhaps it is time to start on those items we still need to bring up from my cellar."

"I will be glad to Mr Crabbe." He pulled Helen closer than he needed to for side-to-side apparation and left with a small crack of thunder.

Vincent found him self alone, standing in St Mungo's Reception area looking dishevelled and forlorn. He walked to the front of the building and stepped out into Muggle London wanting to forget for just a while who he was and why he was here.

He had seen his mother in Azkaban. Rather he had seen what was left of her. The guards had made sure to march him past her cell, push him into the bars and turn his head to make him look at the woman crouched in the corner. She picked at her sleeve that was almost in threads from her picking and pulling at it. She looked around her cell, keeping her eyes to the floor, letting drool slide from the corner of her mouth. Her hair was wild and uncombed, no longer neatly tied back as he had always seen in.

Then she lifted her head, looked directly at him, and began to laugh, high and shrill with only a touch of madness. It was the laugh that Vincent remembered hearing as a child. Vincent recoiled from the sight but was held fast and pushed harder against the bars. She still laughed and leaned forward putting her palms on the cell floor. She moved forward on her hands and knees, and then crawled to the bars.

He twisted against the unseen hands at his back, and fought for freedom. Feeling his defeat, he slid down the bars and came to rest on the floor, his head even with hers. She looked at him with the unblinking eyes of madness and still laughed. Throwing her head back, she quieted only to come forward again to spit in his face. Her eyes grew larger as he wiped the spittle on the back of his sleeve.

"Bastard." She hissed. "Bastard son didn't save his father."

The guard yanked Vincent up by the hair. "She gets kissed again tomorrow. We just thought you would want to say goodbye."

"Again?" He whispered not able to take his eyes off her. "The dementors should be gone. Not here…"

"Yeah, right. Well see kid, sometimes we let them back in. Sometimes it takes more then one kiss." The guard shrugged and pushed him down the hallway where his own cell awaited, smiled and smacking a club into his palm. He planned to make sure that Crabbe knew who was in charge here.

Now, as he walked through the deserted streets of London he felt his chest tighten at the memory. He was sure he would not miss her. He was sure he did not care. When he had heard of her trial and sentence, it had left him cold, uncaring, and almost glad that it was over. Now he walked and felt the loss of a mother he had never known. He thought of Potter and wondered which was better, having a mother that hates you, or not having one at all.

He walked until the sun was turning the sky lighter and then apparated to his family home. Looking up at the house from the pavement below the gate, he considered returning to London, and Diagon Alley to drink until he could no longer see his mothers face.

He started up the walk knowing that even if he did go to the Alley he needed to change his clothes and clean up. He was almost to the door when he saw Elsie wringing her hands and in tears sitting on the bottom step.

"Elsie? What ever are you doing out here?"

"Oh Master," She ran to him and threw her arms around his legs.

"Elsie, please let go." He stepped back as soon as he felt her release him.

"I hear you in Azkaban, and then I hear not in Azkaban." She wailed into her hands. "Then the mens come to get in the house."

"Aurors?" He frowned.

"No, the mens in the black robes like your fathers."

"Death Eaters, you can say it aloud."

"That's the words." Elsie trembled. "I do not like those words."

"I know," he said grinning at her and patting her on the head.

"You kept them out?"

"Yes Master," she sniffed.

"You did very good Elsie. Very good indeed." He watched as she bowed again, smiling widely. "Why are you sitting out here?"

She lowered her eyes as her eyes got large in fright. "I forgot the word."

"What word?"

"They pull down the wards fast. I put a password on the last one."

"Now no one can get in." His lip curled up in a smile. "Elsie, the way my day has been going I would expect nothing else."

Elsie and Vincent walked up to the top step and sat down looking around the yard until Vincent finally broke the silence.

"The Ministry opens up soon. We could try a spell breaker." Vincent looked down Iggy, sitting beside him happily swinging her feet on the high step.

"I go?" Elsie stopped swing her feet and looked up nervously.

"That or we can continue to sit here." Vincent scowled at her.

"I can sit."

"Elsie, Mr Weasley is to come this morning. I should be here if he arrives before the spell breaker comes."

"I go to Mr Weasley." She jumped up.

"Why are you frightened of the spell unit?"

"They come when you are ill Master. They not nice. They say bad things."

Vincent looked down at her knowing exactly how they would have treated a Death Eaters Elf. "Thank you Elsie, if you could go tell Mr Weasley that would be fine."

Once Elsie had left, Vincent stood up and walked around to the back of the house hoping to find the lawn furniture. Finding not the furniture but a very unkempt patio, he pulled his wand and began getting rid of the weeds and grass that grew between the paving stones. He lost track of time, and finding peace in doing a domestic job for what may have been the first time in his recent memory he felt himself relax and begin to let go of the tension the last day had piled on him.

"I have a shed full of Muggle inventions that I study when things get too much. You do yard work." Arthur Weasley stepped on the patio and looked at the smooth paving stones. "I used to have a son that did things like this around the house."

"I heard." Vincent looked down at the ground. "I wish that whole day could be done over."

"No." Arthur met his eyes. "I use to think that way, until someone told me it could have been worse. I believe that. I could have lost much more. My whole family was there that night and I only lost one. It could have been much worse."

"I seem to be unable to get in the house." Vincent changed the topic quickly. "Have you spoken to Elsie?"

"She is out front." Arthur looked at Vincent oddly. "You really cannot remember the spell to make the password open for you? On your own house?"

"I would not be out here weeding if I did."

"Let me show you." Arthur pulled his wand and showed Vincent the pattern, correcting him until it was right. He made him repeat the spell a few times before leading him out front to put the two together.

The door sprang open to a delighted Elsie who oh'ed and ah'ed when her Master was able to undo the spell. She ran off to get a pot of tea as Vincent led Arthur into the sitting room.

"She is alone here most of the time." Vincent found himself apologizing for the elf. "She loves to spoil company, so if you could…"

"Sure Vincent." He laughed at the young wizard. "Wives and elves are a lot a like. It is not a good thing to anger them first thing in the morning."

Elsie appeared with the tea tray laden with biscuits and small cakes. She had also included breakfast food and a platter with fresh fruit. Standing near, wringing her hands she waited until both Vincent and Arthur had filed a small plate before she winked out.

"You know Vincent, I could ask one of my sons come over and help with your spell work."

"I don't think that is a good idea Mr. Weasley." Vincent looked up at him from his plate. "We didn't exactly get on in school."

"I am sure there is someone you could turn to." Arthur leaned forward resting his arms on his knees.

Vincent shook his head and frowned. "I am afraid not. I don't know anyone that well who is not dead or in Azkaban. I refuse to have anything to do with that group I used to call friends."

"I can talk to Minerva for you. She may know someone who is looking for a part time tutoring job."

"Don't tell her it's for me." Vincent looked at Arthur and shrugged. "I already spoke to her once since… well, since that night. It didn't go well."

"An ad in the paper perhaps?"

"That may work." Vincent leaned forward suddenly excited. "I can do that. I can set up a meeting someplace other then here. That way they wont know it is me until we meet, and maybe I can convince them it is okay."

"Good," Arthur said as he stood up. "Now, let's get down to that cellar and see what else we can get out of there."

"Whatever it is they want it."

"Who?" Arthur turned, asking him softly.

"Death Eaters. They were here. That is who Elsie was keeping out."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

"Whatever they want must still be here." Vincent spoke over his shoulder.

He entered the storage room and uttered a Lumos, lighting the small space with a flood of light completely uncalled for in such a small space. Arthur watched as Vincent nervously shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. He could tell the young wizard was uncomfortable and would run in a moment if things did not go well.

"You don't know that. We may have removed it to the Ministry." Arthur walked slowly through the room, looking at the remaining items. Seeing broken pieces of pottery, he walked over to squat down and examine what it had been.

"I am sorry Vincent, they are usually much more careful when taking things out." Arthur stood up and looked around the room oddly. "It really doesn't look like much was moved."

"Only what you took with you, maybe a few pensives, and a clock of some sort." Vincent frowned. "Knowing Dad I can only imagine what it would be marking time for."

"We need to start on the pensives. This may be the hardest part. May as well get it over with."

"I can shrink them down for you." Vincent pulled out his wand.

"No, Vincent." Arthur looked uncomfortable. "I need to catalogue, and label them before they are moved, and I need you to vouch for what I am taking."

"Okay, well…" Vincent started to count the odd shaped bowls.

"Vincent, you need to visit them." Arthur pulled out a quill and notepad. "Just enough to see who is in it. No details, just the name and … well a basic sentence… or even a word. I'm sorry lad, if there was a different way I would use it."

"I need to…" Vincent swallowed as he looked around the room. "Sure."

"Just try," Arthur said, as he laid his notebook on the table. "I know it will be hard."

"Mr Weasley, were you there? At the end I mean? At the last battle?"

"Yes, Vincent."

Vincent shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the chore at hand

He pulled out his wand and transfigured the broken shards into a table and then levitated several pensives and placed them in a row on the wooded surface. Looking at Arthur, who smiled at him encouragingly, he leaned over, putting his face in the first bowl and immediately felt the spiralling down.

He felt disorientated, and fell hard on the ground. He was outside, in a large meadow. In the middle of the meadow was a small fire, not the large bonfires he had seen at meetings with his father. Only three wizards sat by the fire, one stool stood empty. It was cold; one sat holding his hands out for warmth. Vincent walked up and closer, knowing he could not be seen, he was still hesitant and afraid. These four Death Eaters were not in a formal meeting yet wore their robes, their masks sitting on the ground. He saw a movement coming from beyond the ring of light cast by the fire, and walked closer to see the fourth.

She was under him, screaming and begging. Vincent saw her eyes turn as if looking straight at him and saw her lips form his name. He was slammed into the wall of the storage room, as her voice seemed to hang in the air, and reach for his ears.

"Vincent," Arthur called him. "Vincent, you were fighting, I had to pull you out."

Vincent brought up both hands and pushed him away, scrambling to his feet he began pacing. Running both hands through his hair, he kept glancing back at the bowl.

"Did you see who is in it?" Arthur asked from his position still on the floor.

"Yes, Lydia. Her name was Lydia. I don't think I ever heard her last." He shot Arthur a sneer and paced the room again. "I met her, I think summer before last."

"I am sorry son," Arthur said, slowly standing up and rubbing his left shoulder. "I need more than that."

"Fine, four Death Eaters. I didn't their faces, only hers." He turned and glared at the older wizard. "Put down rape. Only I know she is dead. I didn't see it, but… there was a lot of blood."

"That's good Vincent. I just need the basics for the report. Someone else can take it from here."

Vincent walked to the next and pushed in his head to see an unknown man manacled to a wall. He fell down to the stone floor, not as hard has he had earlier, this time he landed on his feet. Again, he immediately looked for who held this memory. The sound of a whip and the unknown man's screams brought his head back to look at the horror.

Vincent frowned and looked more closely at the man's clothing, and turning back, he saw his father holding the whip. Vincent stood firm in front of the wizard that he felt nothing for, not love, hate, fear, only a complete separation. His name fell on his ears as the Muggles screams reached him. He turned in horror to look at the Muggle and locked eyes with him. Vincent pulled his head out of the pensive before Arthur could reach him.

"A Muggle with my father. I think in this very room." Vincent licked his lips nervously and watched as Arthur made his notes. "He was whipping him. Arthur?"

"Vincent." Arthur looked up from the notepad.

"They both saw me." All colour had drained from his face as he turned in a circle looking at the sheer number of pensives yet to go into. "They looked right at me and … she begged me to help her."

"It just seemed that way."

"No. She looked right at me. He called me." Vincent locked his eyes on Arthur. "A pensive can't do that. Can it? I mean, it's just a memory right?"

"Yes, Vincent? What's wrong?"

"If they can see me, it makes it look like I am there. As if, I am in the pensive instead of just looking in one. Mr Weasley, I am part of the memory."

.

.

.

.

.

Vincent had sent an Owl to the Daily Prophet and placed his ad that same afternoon. Arthur had assured him that he would ask around about the possibility that the pensives were charmed and had encouraged him to keep busy, keep his mind off them, and to follow through with his plan to get educated and pass his exams. He had taken only the two bowls back with him, and cautioned Vincent not to view them by himself.

The missive he sent to the classified section had been short and to the point, asking the interested parties send an owl to the Prophet with a resume, who would then forward it on to him. He could choose who to meet, and where it would be. He had already decided to use the Leaky Cauldron as it may give the impression that he lived in London instead of Scotland, further playing into the ruse.

He was surprised to get a response later that same week. Ripping open the letter he scanned it quickly and studied the name not recognizing it. He rifled through the desk drawers looking for his fathers address books, or the Society Page that his mother used for invitations. When he found the drawers almost empty, he correctly assumed the Ministry had taken them for evidence or to aid in their search of Death Eaters.

He read the letter again wondering who Mrs Eaton could be. He shrugged and picked up a piece of parchment to set up an appointment. He tied it to the owl's leg and sent it off hoping that a meeting tomorrow was not too soon.

.

.

.Later that evening he sat in front of the fire listening to the house moan and settle around him. He found he could recognize the sound of the upstairs shutter as it beat in time with the wind, and know it was the one with the broken slat, and not the other with a loose hinge. He could hear the flapping of the patio awning, which seemed to fight for dominance of the wind over the shutter.

He leaned his head back against the chair and thought the loneliest sound in the world was the sound of a burning ember as it snapped, splitting in half, growing smaller, until it no longer had the strength to live. He closed his eyes and thought of the Hogwarts fire, and wondered why he had lived.

"Master?" Elsie softly laid her clawed hand on his right arm.

"Elsie? What is it?" He struggled to wake and sit up at the same time. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I fix dinner?" Elsie looked up at him with her hands pressed together.

"No, I think I need to get out of here. I will pick up something in Hogsmeade, or maybe I'll go to Diagon Alley. I will need quills, and a couple of notebooks." He scrubbed his eyes with his hands and then stood up and stretched.

"Elsie?" He looked down the elf he had known all his life. "What do you do all day? I mean, I know you take care of the house. But it is just me, and I was wondering."

"I go to Hogwarts. I see the others and we visit." She tilted her head and looked at him.

"Do you, I mean do elves have, you know … families?"

"Yes Master."

"Do you?"

"I still single." She actually blushed and looked at the floor. "Brother works at Hogwarts."

Vincent looked down at her frowning. He doubted his parents had known of her brother in Hogwarts, or the fact that she snuck off to meet with him and her friends.

"Master?"

"Yes Elsie?"

"Do you have friends to visit?"

Vincent looked at her and thought before shaking his head. He picked up his cloak from the back of his chair and headed outside.

He found himself in Hogsmeade too late to get supplies, and to tired to go to Diagon Alley. He walked to the Hogs Head knowing the pub was open late; sometimes the sun was coming up when the last wizard would stagger out. Aberforth would stay open as long as there was a galleon in a pocket, or a story to hear. Vincent pulled his hood up and walked in.

Only a few wizards sat at the tables, hunched over their drinks and whispering to each other. He noticed one table that held four, a fist was pounding the table, and the wizards face red. He smirked thinking it would be great fun to lower the silence spell and take them unaware. Sliding into a chair with its back to the wall, he turned to keep his left side to the room. One advantage of heavy scars was that no one wanted to get too close.

He held up two fingers to Aberforth and saw the barkeep nod before lowering his arm. The witch that had watched him come in slid off the bar stool and walked to his table. She was about his age, maybe a little older, but looked hard, and bored. She sat down opposite him and smiled.

"Want company?" She licked her lips and leaned back in the chair, tracing the neckline of her low cut blouse with a finger.

Vincent plucked his drink out of the air as Aberforth magically sent it over to the table. He put his drink down, used both hands to push down his hood, and looked at her stonily.

"I've seen worse." She shrugged, looking at the scars. "How far down does it go?"

"Not as far as you're worried about." He tossed the double shot down in one gulp. "How much?"

"Depends what you want, and for how long."

"The night, and does it matter what I want?"

"Nothing rough, I don't do that."

"Done."

"All night? That could cost me ya know. I can usually get in three. 100 Galleons for the night."

"Done." He smirked and threw the payment down on the table in front of her.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Morning came before Aberforth stood over the table and told them to find a room. Vincent threw enough galleons on the table to cover his tab, and a little extra for Aberforth staying open longer than he should have. He picked up her cloak and stood by the chair holding it to slip over her shoulders.

"You're strange Crabbe." She said narrowing her eyes. "You pay my price and then we just sit and talk. You could have just asked me to sit a while you know, I didn't have any business."

"It's been too long, almost two years since I sat and talked. In all that time, I have gone out to lunch once with someone. I didn't want you to say no." He took her by the elbow when Aberforth cleared his throat loudly. "We best get going before he gets angry."

He opened the door and stood back, letting her go out first then joined her on the pavement to walk down to the apparation point.

"You are a real gentleman Crabbe." She looked up at him oddly. "If I were … well lets just say if I was not a career girl I may set myself up to get you."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"Nope, don't allow anyone to know where I live. It's not safe, a girl never knows." She shrugged the stood on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks Crabbe, it was real nice. Like a real date. I'm not treated like this anymore."

He watched as she spun away then he apparated home. He walked up the pavement slowly, watching the ground as he walked to the house, shoulders slumped, head down. He had enjoyed her company and found that she was not what he expected. He had expected an uneducated girl, someone with few opinions and fewer ideas. She had been to school and even finished her exams. He was sorry to see the sun come up and send her on her way.

He had tried to get information from her, asking her questions about where she shopped, where she went to school, what she liked to do. All he had learned is that she was mostly home schooled, she had apprenticed but would not tell him where, and when the war came she lost everything.

"I taught you better than that Mr Crabbe. First impressions are important. Put your head up young man." Minerva stood with her hands folded primly in front of her.

"Professor McGonagall?" Vincent stood staring at her shaking off his thoughts of the Hogs Head.

"Close your mouth Mr Crabbe it is most unbecoming."

"Professor? You are aware of the time?"

"It is not I in need of a lecture young man. Coming home at seven in the morning indeed." She sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her nose.

"How long have you been here?" Vincent looked back over his shoulder, feeling uncomfortable and exposed.

"Not long Mr Crabbe. I would think you would open the door and invite me in."

"Of course. Forgive me Professor." He hurried up the steps, released the wards and stood back indicating she should enter. He took her cloak and put it in the hallway closet, hissing for Elsie.

"Umm Professor, if you will just wait in here." He opened the door to the sitting room, "I will just grab us a cup of tea."

"From your looks you can use more than a cup," she snipped.

Vincent hurried to the kitchen, running his hand though his hair and hissing Elsie's name as loud as he could and still not be overheard by Minerva. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was still a little drunk from sitting up in the Hogs Head all night with a whore.

"Yes Master." Elsie stood in front of him with a large yawn on her face.

Waiting until she closed her mouth, Vincent squatted down to talk quietly. "Listen Elsie, a Professor from Hogwarts is here. I need a tea service, and if you can get it put a little sober up potion in mine."

"Yes Master." Her eyes got large and she began to hurry around the kitchen.

"Well now Professor, the tea will be right in. I am sorry you caught me at a bad time. However you are the first quest I have had."

"Had since when Mr Crabbe? Is that your excuse for coming in at this ungodly time?"

"Had ever." He saw Elsie come in and went over to help her with the tray that was about to tip over it was so heavy with tea and cakes.

"Mr Weasley was here, but that was on business I guess you would say."

"Mr Crabbe, I have come over something of importance I found in that note book you brought to me." She spoke kinder than she had after hearing his admission that she was sure he did not mean to make.

"Go on."

"First, do you have a pensive?" She asked lifting her chin to see him thru her glasses that she wore on the tip of her nose.

He let out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, you may say I have one or two."

"I see." She leaned forward and poured a cup of tea for Vincent and then one for herself.

"Are these pensives …, well Mr Crabbe, are they yours?"

"No, I mean they are mine, but not my memories. What is going on here?"

"I have asked Mr Weasley to join us Mr Crabbe. I think we will be wise to wait for him before continuing."

"That would be fine Professor. Please have some breakfast." Vincent caught Elsie peeking in the room twisting her claws.

"I am quiet all right Mr Crabbe."

A wail went up in the hallway followed by the noise of Elsie smacking her head against the wall. Minerva jumped up and looked around, her hand going to her throat.

"Umm Professor, if you could just take a biscuit. Just hold it on a plate and maybe hide it when she isn't looking, she gets upset you see." He shrugged sheepishly, handed her a plate, and then hurried to the hallway to calm down Elsie. He took a deep breath, rested his forehead on the wall and wished he had paid the whore twice and found a room.

He was squatted down talking to Elsie when the wards sounded, announcing Mr Weasley's arrival. He patted the elf on the head and opened the door shooing Elsie back to the kitchen.

"Mr Crabbe," Arthur said, nodding. "It appears Minerva has found some information that may be of use to us."

"This way Mr Weasley."

"Ah, Arthur, I am glad you could be punctual. Unlike the younger wizards that stay out all night." Minerva gave Vincent a pointed look.

Arthur poured himself a cup of tea and put three biscuits in his pocket, looking around for Elsie.

"Have a date Vincent?" He grinned at the young wizard.

"No, not exactly, I think we should get started here." He felt a flush creeping up from his collar and the thought of being a child at his parents table came to his mind.

"Miner.. Professor McGonagall sent me some information yesterday that I think may be important." Arthur looked at Minerva and nodded.

"Mr Crabbe, did you read that book you brought me?"

"No, I glanced at it, but I really don't know that much about potions." He looked at Mr Weasley hopelessly. "I am going to meet with a tutor today, like you said."

"That is fine Vincent. That is just fine." Arthur grinned widely and reached over, taking his hand in both his warmly. "If I can help you just send an owl, but that is great news.

Minerva cleared the throat loudly. "Mr Crabbe if I may?"

Vincent leaned back in his chair and looked at her again feeling the blush come up this neck. "Sorry Professor."

"It appears that there was much more than potions in the journal, but spells and charms. Certain charms that Severus discontinued working on as he could not find the reversal."

"What kind of Charm Professor?" Vincent felt uneasy and looked to Arthur who had his eyes trained on the floor.

"Any pensive that was your fathers is now your's by inheritance. Any memory in those pensives that was his, will now be your's. Not by memory, but by viewing."

"So, the pensives that we saw were really my father's memories?"

"Vincent, that would explain why he was alone in the cell with a whip, yet you heard your name called." Arthur said gently.

"That means it was my father on… that killed Lydia." Vincent looked at him with his jaw clenched. "And it means who ever looks in the pensives will think I am guilty."

"That is why, Mr Crabbe, you are not to set foot out of the house until we get this settled. The Ministry would need a warrant to come in here, and we do not need you giving them a reason. That and, well other things." Minerva said firmly.

"This could mean that any Death Eater that had a pensive used against him in trial can have the verdict overturned." Vincent said more to himself than to the others in the room. "We can't trust anything we see in them any more."

"Correct Mr Crabbe. However, having the journal will also protect you from being accused of the atrocities of the visions I am sure you have yet to view." Minerva looked down at him, then reached forward and patted his arm. "I am truly remiss in my treatment of you Mr Crabbe. I should not have said what I did in my office that day."

"And I should stay inside why? What were the other things?"

Arthur looked a Minerva before answering. "Vincent, your father was not known for keeping his mouth shut."

Vincent let out a snort of laughter and then stood going to the liquor cabinet. He had been feeling bad since drinking his tea, he never should have told Elsie to put in a sober up. He lifted up the bottle and raised an eyebrow, silently asking Arthur if he wanted a drink as well. Seeing the older wizard shake his head and Minerva's scowl, he took the bottle back to his seat and poured a generous amount into his teacup.

Arthur frowned watching Vincent finish his drink in two swallows. "Vincent, someone may be after that book. Remember when we went down stairs and you mentioned a clock that was taken?"

Vincent nodded.

"It never made it to the Ministry. Someone was in here that you were not aware of."

"No one could get in here. When I am not home the wards are always set, and they have not been tampered with. I would know if they were."

"Who else would know your wards well enough to tamper with them without you knowing? Think Vincent."

He poured another cup of whiskey and brought it half way to his mouth before lowering it back to the table.

"This would also be someone who keeps pensives of their memories to revisit at will?"

"Yes." Arthur glanced at Minerva.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy stayed here on occasion. Hell, since I was a first year if I was home he was here. I only came for special events, and Lucius would be here showing off Draco. I think that is the only reason I was allowed back in."

"I will mention it to Kingsley." Arthur said bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think Draco would do this Arthur, it's not his style. Bloody hell, he would march up to the front door with a witch on his arm and convince me to do anything he wanted." Vincent leaned forward to reach for the bottle only to have Minerva beat him to it and pull it away.

"It is more like his father, you know, blind side someone. Get rid of them so it doesn't come back on you. Hire some one…" Vincent stopped talking and looked at Arthur.

"Get me out of the house long enough for him to get in. Shite!" He yelled as he jumped up and ran to the floo.

"Helen, Helen Dolohov. He will go after her. He did once already. Don't you see? He thinks we are together. He must have seen us at lunch. He tried to get her twice to get me out of the way. Arthur it has to be him, and he is going after Helen."

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Gesshh… I can't believe I am still writing Crabbe…


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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**Rebirth**

**Chapter 7**

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Arthur was on his feet and running to the floo as Vincent stepped into it. Throwing down the powder, they headed for the Leaky Cauldron. Tom's floo was the closest to Helen that they could safely use. Many others had been damaged during the last fight, or had been taken of the network to stop Death Eater escape and had not yet been re-established.

They stepped out to a room just beginning to fill for the morning meal, and found Tom lazily sitting at the counter drinking his first cup of tea for the day. Seeing Vincent and Arthur step out of the floo he waved them over frowning.

"Arthur, little early for you to be out. Don't say I remember having you here in time for breakfast." He sipped his tea and looked over the rim, then set his cup down seeing Vincent's face.

"What is it Vincent. More problems with the Ministry?"

"No. I know its early Tom, but you need to unward the back door and let us in that way. I don't want the noise of apparation alerting anyone."

"Helen?"

Vincent nodded and walked toward the back door as Tom grabbed his robes from the back of the bar and joined them. He un-warded the doors and sent his Patronus upstairs to the barmaid, telling her to come down and watch the place until he came back. He slapped Vincent on the back as he passed him in the short hallway to the back door.

"Let's go boy." He opened the door, holding it open for the two to step out into the back yard and hurried to the wall. "Vincent, why do you think she is danger?"

"I think someone wanted to make sure they had access to my home. They are looking for something." Vincent stepped to the side as Tom tapped the bricks.

"There was a journal, after the fire it was in the same room I was kept in. Elsie was there all the time so it would have been too hard for them to get in." He spoke hurriedly as the bricks slide back and opened the wall.

"The first time I really went out for any length of time was to get my wand. Then it was with Helen when we had lunch at your place." He looked at Tom evenly. "They attacked knowing I was on my way to see her. They planned to accuse me. Then they poisoned her thinking they could get rid of both of us that way."

"We don't know that for sure." Arthur interrupted Vincent's story. "We have to make sure before we take this to the Ministry."

"Right now we need to get the witch." Tom began running down the pavement to the wand shop with the others close at his heels.

Tom threw the door open to the shop and sighed in relief when Helen stepped out of the back room with her wand drawn.

"Tom?" She looked at him and then saw the other two walk in behind him. "What is going on? Gods man, it sounded like you were taking the door off."

"Put that wand down." Tom smirked at her. "That is a nasty habit you are picking up."

She slid her wand up her sleeve and walked over to Tom, stood on her tiptoes and gave his a kiss on the cheek. "And it is a nasty habit you have of running in here all the time."

"Umm," Tom looked back at Vincent sheepishly. "She thought she heard something last night again, I guess I over reacted."

Vincent raised his eyebrow and looked at Tom, and then at Helen seeing a blush start at her neck and start climbing up to her face.

Vincent put his wand down to his side but kept it ready. "We need to get out of here. Helen, you can't be here for a while, not until we figure this out and it's safe."

"Safe?" She looked around at the shop. "But, Vincent, this is all I have. If I lose this … I can't just walk away. Forgive me Mr Weasley if I don't trust you, but the Ministry and I just don't see eye to eye, now you come in with them and tell me I have to leave."

"Helen," Tom said stepping closer and lifting up her chin. "You need to leave. They may think that they can get to Vincent through you."

"What?" She peeked around Tom's arm and then looked back up to him. "Why ever would they think that?"

"We had lunch together." Vincent said flatly. "Trust me, in this place that is all it takes before rumours start."

"I guess I could afford to close a couple of days. Business should be slow for a couple of days." She chewed her lip and looked around the shop again. "The First Year letters go out next week and you know how busy it gets then."

"I will have you back by then." Tom smiled down at her and took her elbow.

She nodded at him and hurried to the back room to grab her robes. She threw wards up along the shelves to help protect the wands, knowing as she did it that the wards were weak and could be easily broken.

"I'll just run upstairs and get a change of clothes."

"No," Arthur stopped her. "Tom the back door and store room, Vincent keep the front secure. Now we can go up. You will stay behind me and only take what you can carry. Three minutes and then we are gone."

He walked to the stairs and hurried up with his wand out, Helen running behind.

"Vincent." Tom turned and looked at Vincent. "About Helen, you don't mind do you? I mean she didn't seem to…"

"Bloody Hell man, she was just someone who talked nice to me. I thought she could be a friend." He chuckled at Tom's relief. "A good looking friend I must add, but no Tom. I am glad you two met up."

"I didn't think there was anything, but once you hear a rumour, doesn't matter how hard you try, it's hard to forget."

"Tom, Helen needs you to forget not just what they said about us, that was nothing, but about her family. The truth is bad enough you don't need to go adding to it." Vincent scowled at him.

"I'm working on it Vincent. It's not easy, but I'm working on it."

"You two watching those doors or talking?" Arthur came down with Helen close behind, clutching what robes she had time to grab.

"Arthur, you walk ahead with Helen next. Tom keep to her to the right, leave her walk closest to the buildings, I will bring up the rear." Vincent raised his wand to the ready position and opened the door.

As Helen walked by him he cast a shield around her, and a notice me not spell, giving her a little push and sent her on her way. As Tom walked by, he stepped out, warding the door to the shop and then nodding to the others to start.

"Vincent," Tom hissed back. "Where are we hiding her?"

"Right under their noses." Vincent smiled.

"Arthur," he called up to the head of their group. "Take Tom to where you last saw Minerva."

With that, he reached and grabbed Helen around the waist apparating out of the Alley and to his house. As he settled Helen down the sounds of the others arriving came behind him and Arthur's gentle laugh.

Helen turned angrily, putting her hand on her hips. "Why the big show? We could have just left from inside the shop."

"I wanted them to see us leave. I wanted them, sorry Arthur, I wanted them to think the Order was behind me."

"Good show, Vincent, good show." Arthur grinned. "I would now suggest we head inside."

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Elsie was delighted. She had robes to hang and people to feed. She brought a try laden with tea, pumpkin juice, coffee, milk, any kind of beverage she could find. She then started with the cakes, and biscuits, determined to find something that the pretty one liked. Tray after tray came until her master pinched the bridge of his nose and made her stop. Now all she could do was sit in the kitchen a wail.

"You really have to do something about her Vincent." Helen laughed at his expression. "You let her get out of control, this did not happen overnight."

"She has always been that way. If you just eat something, or hide it in your pockets it will calm her down."

"No, Vincent." Helen stood up and started for the kitchen. "I am quite used to house elves. Let me talk to her."

"Well, what do we do now?" Tom leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees and talking quietly so Helen could not over hear.

"She can stay here. I have plenty of room." Vincent suddenly smiled "It will give Elsie someone to take care of and leave me alone."

"It will only add to the rumours you know." Arthur frowned at him. "A single witch staying here. I don't know Vincent."

"She's not safe at home, and she is not safe at the Leaky Cauldron. Sorry Tom, but your place is not known for respectable clientele. Bloody Hell, it's the gateway to London," Vincent said. "She stays here. No one needs to know. No one will know if you two don't talk who ever is after her isn't going to say anything. They would have to admit they were watching the shop if they did."

"I guess that is the way we leave it for now." Arthur stood up and started walking to the door. "Vincent, I am sorry to say this, but anyone you talk to right now will be suspect. I would suggest that your tutor be forgotten for a while."

"Shite, I forgot about that. Tom, a Miss Eaton is going to show up at your place looking for a … well I guess at student. She doesn't know it's me, and she doesn't have to. Just tell her the meeting was called off, tell her you got an owl from the person that wrote the ad."

"Try to get a good look at her Tom," Arthur said. "After all, she may not be a Miss Eaton at all."

"That should do it. Right Vince?" Arthur looked at him. "I mean, it was just Helen and this Miss Eaton that you could be associated with."

Vincent suddenly felt cold. He ran his hand through his hair and turned his back to Arthur, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a drink. Arthur looked at Tom, who shrugged his shoulders and then walked over to Vincent.

"Vincent? I have to know who."

"I don't know her name. She was just someone I met." He knocked back the drink and poured another. "We sat at the Hogs Head all night. I got home this morning to find Minerva on my stoop."

"Surely you have some idea…"

"She is a working girl Arthur. Even if she gave me a name I am sure it would not be her real name."

"Bloody Hell Vincent." Arthur slumped back in the chair. "Now what?"

"I go back tonight and get her." He turned to look at Arthur. "It shouldn't be hard. I am sure a girl in her profession leaves with blokes all the time."

"Right." Tom said. "She leaves with you, never comes back and Aberforth won't be suspicious?"

"I'll talk to Aberforth," Arthur said. "I can't think of anything else, and we can trust him. I just don't want to put any more in jeopardy than already are."

"Then let me go," Tom said. "One barkeep to the next. If you go, it will be all over that the Order or the Ministry is interested in something that is going on. I'll go now, most working girls have a way for the barkeep to call them."

"And you Vincent need some sleep. Let Helen deal with Elsie in the mean time and try to rest a little. I have something I need to look into." Arthur added looking at Vincent oddly. "You surprised me Vincent. You handled this well."

"It's what I do Arthur. It's all I've ever done really well I mean." Vincent frowned. "What do you think I trained for? Getting a Malfoy out of a tight spot was right up there on the list."

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Elsie woke Vincent up later that day. It was almost dinner time when she came into his room running back and forth between the bed and the door calling him and demanding he get up right away. Vincent opened one eye, peered out at her and pulling the pillow over his head tried to ignore her.

"No, No," she wailed. "Master you come, you come now."

"Elsie, what ever it is I am not interested." He spoke into the pillow that he still held firmly in place over his face. He knew Elsie's next tactic would be to yank the pillow out of his hands and jump up on down demanding again that he get up.

"Master," she ran up to the bed a grasped the pillow. "Oh Master. That one, that one your brought she won't let me feed the other one."

She tugged on the pillow harder and harder until her words sunk into Vincent's sleepy mind with crystal clarity. "The other one?"

Vincent gave in to the tug-o-war on the pillow letting Elsie win. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared at Elsie.

"Oh Master. So much company in one day. So much to do." She looked up blissfully at him.

"I will be sorry for asking this, but how long has she been here.?"

"She been here since lunch time. She sits and talks with the other one, the first one. She not eat."

"Great." Vince stood up and headed for the shower. He thought of the educated wand maker from a Death Eater family sitting in his sitting room with a Muggle born half blooded whore. He wanted a drink. He wanted a drink badly.

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I would love to know what you think so far....


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not mine

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 8**

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Vincent walked down to the kitchen with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head lowered, looking at the floor. He heard the sounds of witch's laughter coming from behind the closed door. Stopping just before pushing the door open he stood up straight, rotated his head as he loosened his shoulders and bravely pushed open the door.

"I'm in hell," rushed out of his mouth before he could stop the words from gathering enough sped to fling themselves on the floor.

"Mr Crabbe," Minerva said looking at him oddly. "I did not quite catch that."

"I said, Bloody Hell, how nice." He plastered on a smile and walked over to the only chair left at the small kitchen table. "Company for breakfast."

"Dinner Mr Crabbe," Minerva sniffed. "It would seem your sleeping habits have ruined your sense of time."

"There is still plenty left." Helen slid a plate in front of him. "I have had a talk with Elsie, but she still prepared enough food for twenty."

"Must have worked then," Vincent looked down at his plate, then pushed it back, looking up at the whore he had spent the previous night talking with. "I, umm, I really didn't get your name."

He closed his eyes for just the smallest moment when he heard Minerva's sniff of disapproval and Helen's snort of laughter.

"Violet," she smiled at him and worried her lip. "Well, not really. That's only what I use when I…"

"Nice name," Vincent reddened and tried to cut her off.

"Thanks, only as I was saying I only use that at work. I guess here you can call me Lucy, just remember Violet when I am working." She smiled at him unashamed and seemingly happy to be here.

"Umm, yeah, sure."

"Mr Crabbe, it appears that you have managed once again to involve people in your affairs…"

"Watch it Professor," Vincent said looking at the table. "I'm not your student now."

"Vincent!" Helen interjected. "Minerva has been kind enough to bring Violet… or Lucy, whatever, she has been kind enough to bring her some clean clothes and things she may need."

"I am sorry Professor," he said, looking around the table. "It's just that I, well, I am not used to so much company first thing in the morning."

"No, you prefer your company in the evenings." Minerva snapped at him as she stood up. "I really must be going. I will see myself to the floo."

"Professor?" Vincent could not help seeing the lumps in her pockets. "Has Elsie been bothering you?"

"No bother at all, none at all." She reached over and patted his arm before walking to the floo.

"Here Minerva, let me see you out." Helen shot Vincent a glare as she followed her out.

"What did I do?" Vincent questioned the closed door.

"You didn't see your company to the floo," Lucy said grinning at him. "And for whatever reason Elsie has taken to hiding when ever I am around."

"It's because of my Mum," he said without thinking.

"Your Mum?"

"Yeah, she said if Dad ever brought home one of his whores she wou… Umm, well any way," he said trying not to dig the hole deeper.

"I get it," she said and tried to smile only to lower her head.

"Lucy, I am really sorry to drag you into this."

"No, its fine. Trust me the digs are better here, and the food much better."

"Umm, about the Professor, she can be a little judgemental at times. I hope she didn't offend you."

"No, not much anyway. Listen Vincent, I didn't let on like all we did was talk," She bit her lip and looked away. "Sometimes blokes, well you know."

"No, I really don't." Vincent put his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He didn't think it could get much worse.

"Well, they come to me when they can't … can't do what they should do at home, get it up I mean."

Vincent lowered his hands and gaped at her. It just got worse.

"You didn't… I mean you three didn't…"

"Oh heavens Vincent, I could never let on in front of that stuffy Professor." She sipped her tea and looked back at him, sure he appreciated her discretion. "I only mentioned it to your girlfriend. Nice that one, you two must have a real open relationship if she lets you bring me home."

"Whoa, she's…"

"Vincent, a word please?" Helen stood in the doorway, holding the door open and nodding to the hallway.

"Sure," he said. "Lucy, wait here. We need to talk. I mean we _really_ need to talk."

He stepped into the hallway and waited Helen shut the door behind her. He then folded his arms and scowled down at her. Witch or not he planned to control this conversation, or at least try.

"Tom thought it may be best to play along with the rumour going around the Alley," Helen said with a smirk.

"If the three of us are to be locked up here together it is best that we do not play that game."

"Oh, I see," Helen grinned. "Afraid your little piece may charge more if…"

"Stop it Helen." He scowled and walked back toward the kitchen, opening the door and then looking back at her. "That was most unlike you. I may not be the brightest but at least I don't treat people the way you do."

"Vincent," she rushed to him, grabbing his arm. "My gods man, I didn't mean it like that. I was joking."

"Not about this Helen." He looked at her sternly. "Now, the three of us need to talk."

He walked back to the table and sat heavily in his chair. Then he looked up at Helen and pointed to hers.

"Now we talk."

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The week passed quickly as a routine fell into place. It seemed the three had formed a home from the cold house that Vincent had always known. The upper floors now belonged to the witches. Helen had taken over the third floor, leaving the second to Lucy who revelled in the tub and shower room at the end of the hall. The sound of water rattling the old pipes could be heard at all hours of the day and night. Vincent twice had to magic enough hot water for himself when she had run the tank dry.

Arthur had the pensives removed. No longer requiring Vincent to record or review what was in them. The charm on the bowls would tack them back to the Crabbe family, and as the only heir, the ownership was clearly his.

Tom would floo, and talk to Helen in a hushed voice. He had decided it safer to stay away then risk alerting anyone as to her involvement with him. Only once, did she step through the floo and go to him, making sure to return before morning came.

Even Elsie was calmer. She no longer piled food on the table until it threatened to fall under the weight. Occasionally she and Helen would still have a standoff, but overall she was behaving, as a house elf should. Vincent still saw her slam her head against the wall, but it was happening less and less.

Lucy had proven an apt tutor. Seeing Vincent reading his history book and making copious notes she had shown him a simpler way. Using a Muggle index card system, he soon had piles of paper reorganized in one small box.

Lucy had laughed and told him the box had been sitting in his kitchen of years to hold receipts and instructions for the elf when he thought it was a new invention.

"Lucy," Vincent asked. "Why do you … why do you become Violet?"

"I want to eat." She laughed and then became serious. "I told you I was Muggle born, but I didn't tell you my parents were killed by Death Eaters."

"Yet you came here. You know about the Crabbe name."

"Oh Vincent, I am so far beyond all that." She looked down at her lap and considered how to put her thoughts out in the open. "Look at me Vincent. What do you see? A whore? A Muggle born? What do you see?"

"I guess I don't really think about all that." He frowned, not sure where she was going. "I see a blond witch, a pretty blond witch."

She looked at him a little sadly and picked up her wand, hesitated and then lifted the glamour spell she wore.

"This is who I am Vincent."

"You are prettier with out the glamour," he said looking at the dark brown hair in riots of uncontrolled curls that cascaded down to her shoulders, and her liquid chocolate eyes. "Why do you wear it?"

"Because Violet is a whore." She picked the wand back up and replaced her glamour. "I was living in the Alley when it was destroyed. I lost everything and needed a place to live and food to eat."

"But, why this?"

"Most of the shops were closed, no work to be had. The apartments left undamaged were for families with children. It was bad times Vincent." She stood and began to pace.

"You wouldn't know what it was like. In this world, you do not just go to a friend's house and ask for help. Bloody Hell, with so many unplottable houses and secret houses what was I to do? You need money to send an owl, and if I had enough for that, I could have eaten. The first few nights a bunch of us slept on the ground, near the burning rubble. At least it was warm." She stood by the fireplace and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You said you were an apprentice."

"Yeah, in the apothecary shop. The one that used to be at the end of the Alley, just before Knockturn."

"It's gone now." He sighed, knowing that her chances of getting another apprenticeship were slim.

"Right." She turned back to look at him. "I have a place in Knockturn. At least I did. It is week to week rent and when I didn't pay last Tuesday they no doubt put my self on the curb."

"You should have said something." Vincent scowled knowing that this was his fault.

"You paid me for your time." She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the fire. "I can get another place. They are easy to come by in Knockturn. Anyway, you asked how I could come here knowing that you were a Death Eater."

Vincent looked up at her and nodded. "I guess the same way you wanted a Muggle born whore. I don't think either of us gives a damn for the titles. I am a whore, you are a Death Eater."

"I didn't have a choice." He locked his eyes on hers. "I guess you didn't have much of one either."

"No, you do have a choice on those exams, so finish your next chapter and I will quiz you on it."

Vincent only nodded and turned back to his books, occasionally glancing at her by the fireplace where she sat on the floor, hugging her knees and staring into the fire. He put his hand to his scar and felt the thickening web as it ran down his throat and looked at her, somehow knowing her scars were worse.

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"The letters should go out today," Helen said as she passed the plate full of toast to Vincent one morning.

"They haven't made a move yet," Vincent said.

"Maybe we have this wrong," Lucy added. "I mean after all, we are holed up here on a suspicion. What is it is wrong?"

"What if it is right?" Vincent stood and started to clear the table as Elsie hopped up trying to take the plate from him.

"It doesn't matter. I have to open tomorrow. The First Years will be picking up their supplies and Seventh Years will want new wands for their tests."

"New wands for a test?" Vincent asked hopefully.

"It rubbish, but the well to do's use any excuse to waste money if you ask me." Helen quipped.

"I could go with you," Lucy offered. "I could wear a glamour so no one would recognize me and help out at the shop. If anything happens I will be right there to help."

"That may work," Helen said. "How are you at duelling?"

"I survived the war in the Alley," Lucy said stonily.

"Fine, but one thing," Helen said firmly. "If it gets bad you apparate out. You can leave from my shop. I can lift the Alley restriction on residential apparation."

"Promise." Lucy grinned at her. "No offence Vincent, if I don't get out of here I am going to the starkers. I need to get out."

"None taken. Be careful. Can either one of you send a Patronus?"

"Sure," Lucy beamed. "It's easy"

"Then send me one if there is trouble. The first thing a Death Eater does is bring down the floo and set anti-apparation spells. Set your wards to detect breeches to the wards and move fast. Once they have the anti-apparation up it's too late. You leave as soon as you feel the ward breeched." He ran his hand through his hair and looked between the two witches.

If he knew anything it was how Death Eaters attacked. He also knew that Death Eaters could not send a Patronus. At least they would have an edge in communications.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Vince started pacing as soon as Helen and Lucy left the next morning. He wanted to use a glamour himself, leaving Lucy here in the relative safety of the house. Tom had argued through the floo that it was best for him to stay put, that the Alley would be so busy that the chance that a Death Eater would try anything was slim.

Vincent now paced and fumed knowing he never should have given in. He should have demanded that he go in Lucy's stead. A Death Eater would see the bustling streets as a diversion, noise to cover their cracks of apparation and laugher to cover muffled screams for help from tiny back rooms and underground cellars.

He went down on his knees and throwing in powder called the Ministry hoping to talk to Arthur. He was transferred twice before a younger version of Arthur popped his head into the fire at the other end.

"Percy?" Vincent questioned knowing that he too worked at the Ministry.

"No Crabbe." Ronald smirked. "I heard you made it but I didn't believe it until Dad said he had seen you."

"Ron? Gee, you look, you look different." Crabbe looked at him hard, and then remembered his own change and the scars that would still show even in the fire of the floo.

"Yeah, I guess we all do, but Bloody Hell man, you look like shite," Ron said, staring at the scars that ran down the left side of Vincent's face.

"Yeah, well thanks, I guess, but listen Ron, I need to talk to your Dad."

"He said if you tried to contact him I was to tell you that they are being watched and that he has six Aurors on it." Ronald frowned. "Crabbe, what's going on? He went with them and it's not like my Dad to work the field."

"It's a long story, maybe some time…, listen thanks, I just don't know how safe it is to be talking over the floo."

"Crabbe if anything happens to him, I will hold you…"

Vincent stood up and cut the connection. He felt bad enough about putting any one in danger and he did not want to listen to it from Ronald. He shook his head and walked to the kitchen. Maybe he could get Elsie out from the cupboard where she had sat crying since the witches left long enough to fix him some lunch.

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Helen had already fit at least two dozen wands to sweaty handed First Years and six Seventh Years that smugly told her what they wanted and walked off proud of their new wand that did not fit their hand and would not help them in the least.

She handed the wand she had just fit to a small giggling First Year with red pigtails to Lucy to wrap and bill, as she looked up to the next customer and saw a pair of grey blue eyes looking back at her.

"Miss Dolohov I believe." The wizard nodded and looked down his nose at her.

"Mr Malfoy." She returned the greeting coldly, meeting his eyes.

"I have been meaning to come in and congratulate you on your recent purchase and business endeavour."

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy, I am sure you have more important things to do." She took a step closer to Lucy who had pulled her wand and held it loosely in her hand under the counter.

"I would like to invite you for dinner. As the daughter of an old friend of mine I would be remiss in not making sure you meet the right people." He smirked at her. "I have heard of your recent acquaintance with Mr Crabbe, and I can assure you that there are many more of the, shall we say of the old school, that are much more interesting than Mr Crabbe."

"I am afraid I have been quite busy." She looked beyond Lucius's shoulder where Tom now stood just inside of the door, his hand in the folds of his robes where she knew he held his wand. "I must decline you kind invitation until I am free."

"Ah, but my dear, if you do not find the time there could be unpleasant repercussions."

"Are you threatening me Mr Malfoy?" She voice caught in her throat as she tried to keep her voice level.

"Oh my dear, of course not. However, the Alley is known for accidents and there are still rouge Death Eaters that may not take kindly to your presence." He causally looked at his silver of his walking stick, twisting it slowly in front of him.

"I will be more careful." She watched him as he stepped closer, and held her breath as he took up her hand to bring it to his lips. He stopped just short of kissing it, before lowering it and only nodding to her. Then turning on his heel, with his cape fanning behind him he left.

Helen looked at Lucy and tried to smile, then felt her knees want to turn to water. Sitting down heavily on the second rung of the ladder, she took gulping breaths to still her nerves. She looked to the door and saw Tom watching her, knowing he was unable to talk to her without giving away his position he slowly opened the door and stepped out to the pavement.

Lucy ran to the door and flipped the sign to closed, then attached the Out for Lunch under it warded the door closed and hurried over to Helen.

"Wow, I thought I was going to lose it and he didn't even talk to me." Lucy squatted down in front of Helen. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so. He really didn't do anything." Helen worried her lip and looked at the door. "If we hadn't been told that he was possibly behind this I guess he could be seem and rather charming. Well, right up to the time he told me that there were a lot of accidents around here."

Lucy smiled weakly as she stood up and looked at the door. "Do you want to go to lunch? We could head down to the Leaky Cauldron or raid your kitchen."

"I don't think I would trust any thing in my kitchen right now. Make sure you have your wand ready and let's walk down to the Cauldron."

They left the shop locking and warding the door behind them and linked arms for the short walk down the pavement. Neither noticed Arthur in the shadows across the road, or Marcus who was paging through a book at one of the outside stalls. Helen saw Tom's back ahead of them and knew he would be the one serving them their meal. She sighed and held on to Lucy a little tighter as they went.

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There were more First Years to fit with a wand that afternoon. One was so close to being a squib that Helen almost lost patience finding one suitable for his hand until she climbed up on the ladder for what must have been the fourteenth time muttering under her breath when she heard a sniff. She looked down to see the boy run his sleeve across his eyes and his mother bite her lip and ruffle his hair.

"Here it is," she said brightly as she came down and handed him a wand. "This is the type of wand you need for your special kind of magic."

"Special?" His eyes grew large and he wiped his nose with his sleeve again.

"Yup, special magic. Not many up at that school have special magic." She nodded knowingly.

"What kind of Special?" He asked wanting to believe so badly he pulled away from his mothers hand that rested on his shoulder and came closer to her. "Good special or bad special?"

"Ah." She squatted down in front of him to reach out and tap his forehead. "The kind of magic that you make in there."

"My Grandpa said that."

"So, there you have it then." She stood up and looked down at him. "Now this wand is an 8 ¾ inch yew with a core of ash that was taken from the flame of a Phoenix. It is a special wand and not to be mistreated. It will increase you magic if you use it right. Just don't over use it to show off or practice too much."

He nodded solemnly at her and took the wand, holding it in both hands. She smiled down at him and gave Lucy the bill to charge to the proper account as she saw the mother smile and nod at her as she ushered the child from the shop.

"Miss Dolohov?" She turned around quickly seeing the second pair of grey blue eyes she had seen that day.

"How did you get in here?" she hissed. "The back was warded. What do you want?"

He raised his wand and flicked the sign to closed as he threw up wards. He looked at Lucy and nodded to the door.

"Leave." He sneered to her. "This does not concern you. Tell Arthur Weasley to back off. Miss Dolohov and I need to talk.

"You must be Lucius's son." She took a step back. "Its fine Lucy, leave tell Arthur what is happening."

Lucy stood and slowly walked backward to the door. "You sure Helen?"

"I said to leave," Draco sneered.

Lucy heard the wards fall behind her. Looking at Helen, she hesitated, looking at Draco and fingering her wand.

"I wouldn't try it," he said. "If you both want to walk out of here would suggest you do as I say."

Lucy nodded and backed up to the door, reaching behind her back and finding the handle she pushed the door open and stepped out on the pavement. The door slammed shut and she heard the wards go back up.

"Well Miss Dolohov, now that we are alone perhaps we can settle this. Please sit." He indicated the stool behind the counter that Lucy had been sitting on.

"I think I prefer to stand Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco, please no need to be formal." Draco walked to the dirty glass window and looked out to the Alley. "Where is Crabbe? Didn't he bother to come with you today?"

"Mr Crabbe does not work here."

"I know that, I thought he would be one of your so called protectors. I need to talk to him."

"About what?"

"A common problem we may share."

"Problem?"

"Tell him I need the Journal. He will know what I mean."

"He doesn't have it any more."

"Then he needs to get it damn it." Draco leaned forward and slammed his hand on the counter. "Listen, tell him I have the key."

"What key?"

"Just tell him that. Tell him I have the key and I need to see him."

"I don't know if I will be…"

"Cut the shite Miss Dolohov. You and some other bint are staying with him."

Helen felt as if the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She fought to breathe, looking quickly at the door and knew that she would not be able to break the wards and make it outside.

"I mean you no harm, tell him that, something is happening and I need to see him."

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Later that night as the three of them along with Tom and Arthur sat in the sitting room they tried to figure out what Draco was up to. Vincent was not surprised that Draco knew the others were staying in the house with him. With or without the journal Draco would have monitored Vincent. They had too much of a past together, too much he knew, too much to protect, and too much of a curiosity about Crabbe.

"I just don't get it," Vincent said. "He never would have shown up after his father was there if they were in this together. Lucius would leave Helen to worry a few days before he went back. He would go back until she was scared, then he would make his move. It's how he works."

"I was scared," Helen let out a snort of laughter.

"But you stood up to him."

"You think Draco is working independent of his father?" Arthur asked leaning forward in his chair.

"Yeah, he said we have a common problem." Vincent was pacing in front of the fireplace. "He knows about the pensives and I know his father keeps them the same way my father did."

"Vincent, if he knows about the Journal and the rumour is already out about the pensives being spelled, why would he worry?" Arthur asked. "If his father dies and the pensives change to Draco we know about the spell, we wouldn't go after him even if we found the pensives and viewed them."

"We are missing something. Something that should be obvious." Tom offered looking between the others in the room. "We need to figure out what it is then set up a meeting with Draco."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 10**

* * *

As Vincent said, to hide in plain sight could well be the best place to hide. He wrote a short missive and tied it around his owl's leg and let the bird soar away, then turned to Arthur.

"Now we wait."

"I hope you are right about this Vincent."

"One thing I know is how Draco thinks and trust me, if I try to pass him a secrete note he will suspect something."

"When you hear from him let me know. We will set up the meeting someplace you both agree on."

"He will only trust me if we meet here. If I offer to see him somewhere else he will suspect something. In all the time we were together, I never once met him in a public place, or anyone else for that matter. No, he needs to think nothing has changed."

Arthur apparated from the back patio as Vincent watched the owl make its slow journey to the horizon where it would dip out of sight and find the unplottable Malfoy Manor. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned back to the house for another meal with Helen and Lucy.

The two witches could embarrass him with a look, a word or a smirk. To make it worse they knew it and often took delight in his discomfort until they erupted in laughter as he stomped from the room. He realized that they were not really laughing at him as people had done before. They included them in their mirth, not hiding behind his back, and when it was over, they would sit and talk to him as a friend.

He sat that evening in the sitting room, again in front of the fire leaning his head back and letting Lucy quiz him on the evenings reading.

"Why does this matter?" she asked. "Its not like History and Charms are going to get you a job. And, what good is transfiguration when you live like this? It's not like you need to make another glass or dinner plate."

He sat up and looked at her, growing a little uncomfortable. "I guess I have something to prove."

"To who?"

"Myself, and I guess Professor McGonagall. She always said I would never be anything. I guess I want to show her I'm not as stupid as she thinks."

"Oh Vincent, I think she only tries to get you to do better. Sometimes I think she is disappointed in you, other times I think she blames herself."

"Blames her self for what?"

"That she didn't do more. That she didn't keep you and all the others away from the Dark Side."

"That's foolish. She…"

Vincent turned quickly at the sound of tapping at the window to see a small barn owl outside the window. He knew it was from Draco, no one else would be sending him a message.

He took the small missive off the owl's legs, and putting a treat down on the windowsill for the owl, he then unrolled the scroll and grinned. Looking up at Helen who had just stepped in he nodded.

"In the morning. He will be here in the morning." He handed her the note. "So it starts."

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Draco walked up the pavement to the house at 8:00 am. Vincent was waiting for him alone in the sitting room, the girls both back at the wand shop. Arthur stood in the kitchen where he would stay out of sight until the two wizards sat comfortably in the other room, and then he would take up a position at the door where he could listen. Elsie was the only one not nervous, and Arthur decided from the amount of food that she was preparing that she did not see Draco as a threat but as a hungry houseguest.

"Draco," Vincent said as he opened the door and allowed the silver blond wizard to enter.

"My gods Crabbe, I wouldn't recognize you." Draco stepped into the house looking Vincent over from head to foot, his eyes resting on the scar damage on his face and neck.

"You didn't." Vincent turned his back on Draco and walked into the sitting room. "I saw you in the Alley. I thought you saw me, but you looked right past."

"I don't see how you got out of that bloody fire. They searched the rubble, but figured there was nothing left. Then a couple of months later we hear you made it."

"Elsie." Vincent grinned and shrugged sheepishly. "You know how she gets."

"She went in after you? Hell!" Draco looked around the room, walked over to the chairs and sat down. "Where is she?"

"Here I is Sirs." Elsie popped in with a tray laden with food and tea.

"Well Elsie, I hear that you were quite the little saviour." Draco grinned and reached to pick up a biscuit. "I see you made my favourite."

Elsie nodded and bowed, backing out of the room, as she turned red with embarrassment.

"I have more Master." She looked at Vincent and disappeared.

"Well, I see she is the same." Draco laughed as he slid the biscuit in his pocket, and then joined it with two more. "She is the only elf I don't want to kick."

"I don't know why she likes you Draco." Vincent sat opposite him and shook his head. "You were always mean to her, but she still fixed your favourite foods and would get excited when we were here."

"Vincent!" Draco clutched his chest as if insulted. "Mean? I should say not. Sarcastic, quick tongued and insulting, but never mean. Well, at least no to Elsie."

"So what do you want Draco? You are not here to rehash old friendships." Vincent leaned forward on his chair, resting his forearms on his legs and looking directly at Draco.

"I know about the pensives, and I know that my father wants Snape's journal to do the same to his."

"And?"

"And what Vincent? I've changed. I think I did long before you. You don't know what it was like." Draco stood and began pacing in front of the fireplace, leaving Vincent to sit nervously alone.

"The Dark Lord was living in my home Vincent. How do you think that felt?" He raked his hand through his hair and stopped pacing to look at Vincent. "I did what he wanted or he killed my parents."

"Right." Vincent sneered at him. "And your great love for your father made you tow the line."

"I don't know. He is still my father, despite everything he has done."

"You mean is doing."

"I couldn't leave my mother alone Crabbe, I just couldn't walk out on her."

"Right." Vincent leaned back in the chair and looked at Draco coldly. "I think we have all changed Draco. Now that we have settled that, why are you really here?"

"You never did trust me did you Crabbe?" Draco smirked at him.

"Nope. Just doing what I was told, same as you." Vincent spoke evenly, no longer nervous in front of Draco. "So tell me again what you want."

"If the Ministry can not trust the pensives and empties Azkaban it starts all over again. Maybe not with Voldemort, but someone will step up to take his place."

"Would that someone be your father?"

"Yes." Draco sat down heavily. "Vincent, you don't know what he is capable of."

Laughter spilled out of Vincent's mouth as he shook his head and watched Draco's face change from surprise to shame.

"Come now Draco, do you really expect me to believe that you did not know what he was? What they all were?"

"I didn't believe it."

"You were there! You saw! You were at the same Revels I was at." Vincent felt bile in the back of his throat and moved his hand to his pocket where his wand hid.

"I didn't want to believe, no more than you did." Draco watched Vincent's hand but made no move toward his own. "I won't fight you Vincent. I won't do it."

"Why Helen Dolohov?"

"He knows you don't have friends, and figured that since he saw you two together he may be able to use it against you. Then he figured that if he couldn't get close enough to… well he found that poison thinking she would do it for him."

Vincent only looked at him, knowing he was telling the truth. Gone was the arrogance that Vincent knew to be Draco's cover. Gone was the brashness that he would wear as a suit.

"Vincent, I didn't tell him about Lucy." Draco's voice was quite, Vincent almost did not hear him.

"Lucy?" Vincent repeated the name. "How did you know about her?"

"Bloody hell man, you sat up at the Hogs Head all night with a whore, you don't think there was talk? I figured it was you when I heard the description of the scars on the wizard she was with. That and I knew … well… I knew you wouldn't take a whore."

"Thanks," Vincent said with a snort of laughter. "I guess there is a compliment in there someplace."

"So what do we do now?" Draco looked at Vincent hopefully.

"I call in Mr Weasley from the hallway, he asks his questions and you work with him."

"Weasley?" Draco's lip curled up as he said the name.

"Yes Mr Malfoy, Weasley, Arthur Weasley," Arthur said from the doorway.

"I thought I was visiting a friend Crabbe." Draco stood and sneered at Vincent. "I would not have come if I knew the Ministry would be here."

"The Ministry is not here, only Mr Weasley." Vincent looked up at the older man. "I guess he is a friend."

"Draco, why would your father want to subject you to examination by the Ministry? That is what would happen if he is found with pensives of what we would think to be your memories."

"Do you think he cares about that?" Draco laughed. "You really don't know him at all. All he wants is his so called friends out of Azkaban."

"If he plans on using the charm on his pensives, how does he plan on them coming to the attention of the Ministry?" Arthur asked.

"Simple, he changes the pensives, and then he gets caught doing something small. Something small that would not end in a sentence to Azkaban. Something that would mean a search of the Manor."

"Like what?" Vincent questioned.

"He plans on selling an illegal item in Knockturn Alley. Only he will have a pensive of my telling him that it is legal. All he needs is the journal." Draco looked at Arthur. "I want him to have the journal. I want to set him up."

"That would give him more proof Draco. How would that help?" Arthur shook his head at the idea.

"Do you have the vials of blood? They should have numbers to match the pensives. The code is in the journal." Draco looked from Arthur back to Vincent. "Add the matching blood to the pensive and the charm is gone."

"I thought there was no reversal?" Vincent asked suspiciously.

"There is no spell to reverse the spell. You need the blood. Snape knew that if they destroyed the blood he would need a reversal charm. That is what he never found."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

**Rebirth**

**Chapter 11**

* * *

It was easy to let things run their course. Draco was able to convince his father he had stolen the journal and had to return it the next night. He helped Lucius not only cast the spell over the pensives but staged the false memory, for yet another pensive, in which he told his father the intended object that was to be sold was legal. Draco watched his father leave for the Alley and quickly got to work.

The first task was by far the hardest, and the one that mattered to him the most. He had to get his mother out of the house and as far from the Aurors as he could. She still took a daily potion to calm her nerves and was beginning to act unstable, jumping at the smallest noise, walking the halls, weeping at all hours, and calling out to Lucius when she knew he was not there. Draco could deal with everything but the way she still clung to her husband, and begged him to stay home with her, afraid the Dark Lord would come back.

Helen had agreed to take her to lunch and talk of the old families. As a Dolohov, she was acceptable in Narcissa's circle to friends and a simple lie placed her on the side of the Dark Lord and no longer a Blood traitor.

"Really Mother, she asks about you every time I am in Diagon Alley," Draco lied to her. "She says she misses the old ways, and no one believes her. It is a shame. I wouldn't mind taking her out myself if she could be accepted by our side."

"Draco, she is a Dolohov. Are you sure?" Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "I seem to remember that she was not what we thought, that she turned."

"No, not this Dolohov, this is Helen." Draco rolled his eyes, playing his part well. "She was always kept in the back, waiting for the right time. Mother, she is one of the few pure bloods left that we can trust."

"I don't know Draco. I will speak to your father of it."

"Just have a cup of tea with her, feel her out, talk to her." Draco pressed. "I will collect you myself and then I can take my favourite girl shopping."

"We could go to Diagon Alley. I do need some new robes." She smoothed her hair and looked around nervously. "If you are sure, your father can get so upset over little things like this."

"Mother, I am quite sure father would be glad to see you get out more." He smirked at her. "I will guarantee he won't yell at you ever again."

"He has said that I should get out more, perhaps I will go out today." She straightened her back and smiled. "Yes, perhaps I will talk to this Helen Dolohov."

"You will like her Mother, I am sure of it." Draco kissed her on the cheek and sent her upstairs to dress.

In the end, Narcissa had agreed and left in enough time to allow Draco to use the code from the journal and match the blood vials to the pensives, restoring the memories back to the true memories. He worked quickly. He pulled out illegal items from hiding places and moved them to places to be easily found. He moved books on the Dark Arts from the dungeon's hiding place to the main library and as a last thought sent even the house elves to the Crabbe home to keep them out of the mix.

The Aurors waited until Lucius stepped into the Alley and arrested him as he intended. They took him to the Ministry and watched as he smugly protested their accusations, assuring them he was not aware that the book they found on him was illegal. He assured the Aurors that he owned nothing considered Dark, and even went as far as to offer his Manor to be searched.

Marcus nodded at the rest as he left the examination room with Lucius's permission to enter the Manor. It was all that they needed.

Arthur was the first to arrive at the Manor, followed by four others. They removed over fifty pensives, and with that evidence, they had enough on Lucius to search for any other objects they could find. Draco stood back and folded his arms, playing his part as the angry son. He did not trust that all the Aurors could be trusted. Although Arthur assured him that Kingsley had thinned the ranks and found the Dark Lords supporters Draco still had his doubts.

"I have Kingsley's word that the Ministry will not seal the Malfoy accounts. They may ask to inspect the vaults to see what else is hidden there, but your funds will not be touched." Arthur pulled Draco aside as the Aurors made yet another trip laden with goods to deliver to the Ministry.

"Father hid his vaults so well it will take even the goblins a while to sort them out." Draco grinned. "I am afraid that is one thing I will not help you with."

"Understood," Arthur said.

"You do know there are still Death Eaters out here." Draco folded his arms and looked at Arthur coldly. "You also realize that they are learning to hide better, to do things differently."

"We know Draco. Next time someone comes along to destroy this world it will be harder. Hopefully we will be better prepared."

"Next time you will not be able to look at an arm to see the allegiance."

"Will we be able to count on you Draco?" Arthur asked.

"No. You can rest easy that I will not be with them." Draco looked down at the floor before meeting Arthur's eyes. "I will not dedicate the Malfoy fortune to them, I will not help them, but I will not help you fight against them."

Arthur nodded and held out his hand to Draco only to have Draco walk away, refusing to shake it. Arthur sighed and watched the young wizard walk away, wishing for a moment that he could help Draco accept the way things were now. Then he left for the apparation point, smiling at the thought of Lucius waiting patiently for them at the Ministry.

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Lucius Malfoy sat on the straight-backed chair tapping his cane on the hard stone floor, impatiently waiting for things to begin. He looked at the clock on the wall and frowned to see he had been here already two hours. He was about to demand to speak to a supervisor when the door opened and Mr Weasley, flanked by two Aurors walked in.

"Well, I see government bureaucracy is again at its best." He sneers as the tall red headed wizard entered the room.

"Mr. Malfoy we have almost completed the search of your family home." Arthur nodded to the Aurors who walked over and began to cuff Malfoy's hands behind his back. "You are hereby under arrest for heinous crimes against humanity, including torture, murder, rape, bodily dismemberment… should I go no?"

"There were no pensives with my memories! What are you doing Weasley?" He thundered.

"Quite wrong Lucius, we found several. Strange though, there were empty vials scattered on the floor." Arthur looked at him as if pondering the meaning of the vials. "Any idea what they would be?"

"You will hear from my solicitor Weasley. I can assure you of that." Lucius pulled against the restraints and glared at Arthur.

"And I can assure you that if what we saw in those pensives you and your solicitor will have a long Ministry paid vacation."

"Take this scum to Azkaban. I will let Kingsley know the arrest is completed." Arthur grinned. "Well, he is rather busy today. I may have to leave it until tomorrow. Do enjoy your stay with us Mr. Malfoy."

Arthur walked out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. Lucius Malfoy had been responsible for so much that had happened in his family. He had a quick vision of Ginny, his youngest, as she had looked laying in the bed in the Hogwarts infirmary due to Malfoy putting a charmed journal in her hands all those years ago.

Arthur started down the hallway and smiled knowing what the guards would do to Malfoy before he even made it to trial. He headed for the apparation point to leave for Vincent's, first he wanted to stop in Diagon Alley and pick up a present for his daughter. He suddenly felt how close he had come to losing her again.

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"It's over?" Helen looked around the table and set down her teacup. "Just like that?"

"Yes, we have Lucius in custody, and seven more will be picked up by morning," Arthur said.

"I can't believe they would keep evidence like that around the house," Lucy said, shaking her head.

"I guess you two will be leaving then?" Vincent asked.

"Well, I still have about a week of busy time, and much as I have enjoyed a whole house, I think I need to get back to the Alley," Helen said.

Tom was leaning against the counter listening to the four at the table. "I will keep an eye on her Vincent. Just to make sure, that is until Arthur tells me all seven have been found."

"You needn't make it sound like such a chore," Helen said.

"No chore." He laughed at her and winked. "As a matter of fact it will be less of a chore than coming here every night."

"You have been coming here every night?" Vincent looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"We have had a stake out on the house, just watching," Arthur said. "Tom was good enough to take one of the shifts."

"You could have let us know," Helen said, looking at Tom.

"Yeah, well, it didn't seem like a good idea at the time." Tom laughed and stood up straight. "I need to head back now. Vincent, if you need anything just floo."

"I think I am fine now," Vincent said. "Thanks Tom."

"You coming Helen?" Tom asked.

"Sure, let me just grab my stuff and I'll meet you at the floo." She hurried out of the door to gather her belongings as Tom headed to the sitting room.

"I should be going to," Arthur said. "I want to stop off and see Ginny and Harry."

"Arthur," Vincent started. "I don't … I … I don't know what to say."

"Tell me you will come to the Burrow Sunday for family dinner."

"No, I don't think so Arthur. Maybe sometime, only not now."

"Vincent, since Ginny's first year at Hogwarts Molly has worried about her safety. Even with the war over, and Voldemort dead, she has worried. Now, with Lucius is locked up, I know she wants to thank you."

"I just can't Arthur, not with Ronald and Harry there. I know what they think of me, and it would just ruin everyone's day." Vincent shook his head. "No Arthur, maybe some day, but not now."

"If you change your mind you come," Arthur said. "I will leave it as an open invitation. Any Sunday you chose."

"Thanks Arthur."

"When Vincent passes his exams he is going to have a party." Lucy smiled and nodded despite the frown on Vincent's face.

"Where did you get that idea?" Vincent said.

"Well, you never got to celebrate before. I thought it would be nice."

Arthur laughed and headed for the sitting room to floo to Ginny's. "Let me know, I will be glad to come."

"So, I guess I should be off." Lucy stood up slowly. "Umm, Vincent if I can't find a place today I may want to come back tonight. Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'll tell Elsie to keep your room made up."

"Sure, thanks." She hurried out of the room and almost ran up the stairs.

"Go after her," Elsie said.

"You really need to stop sneaking up on people like that." Vincent scowled down at her. "And why should I go after her."

"You need her."

"For what?" Vincent felt his neck get warm and a blush start up to his face. "Stop that Elsie."

"You need her. You tell her you need her for the test."

"The test?"

"You need her to help you study."

"Do you think that would work?" Vincent looked down at the elf.

Elsie nodded and popped out of the room leaving Vincent alone to think about what she suggested. He stood and walked slowly up the stairs wondering how this would go.

"Lucy?" He stood in the doorway to her bedroom watching as she shoved the clothes Molly and Minerva had given her in a knapsack.

"They said I could keep them."

"I know, it's not about that." He walked into the room and looked around at the few things she had left to pack. "I was wondering about, well about… I guess I wanted to know if you…"

"Vincent?"

"Give me a minute," he said impatiently.

"Sure." She folded her arms and looked at him.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to stay here."

"Here?"

"Yes, here."

"Why?"

"I need help studying."

"I can come over a couple of times a week."

"Yeah, I guess you could."

She turned back and finished packing her clothes. "Well, that's it then."

"No, I mean …" Vincent looked at her. "Okay, fine, so I want you to stay."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" He looked at her incredulously. "I mean this has got to be better than what you are going back to. You would just have to deal with me."

"So, you just want to hire me." She pushed past him and headed for the door. "Fuck off Vincent."

"What did I say wrong?" He ran after her.

"Oh, I don't know Vincent. I really thought we could be friends. You know? I thought after all this I could just… I could be a friend."

"Then why not stay?" He asked as his words came back to him. "I didn't mean that you had to deal with me in … I didn't mean it that way."

"Talk quick Vincent, you are losing here." She put her hand hoping he was saying what she thought he was.

"I need someone to help me study, that part is true." He swallowed hard. "But, I guess I just like having you here."

"Who? Lucy of Violet?"

"I have never called you Violet." He scowled at her. "And I never will."

"Why do you want me here?"

"For now as a friend." He smiled at her. "Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe more."

"I want to plan a party."

"Fine."

"I want to invite people."

"Fine."

"I don't want you to treat me like a …"

"Fine." He smiled at her. "I guess that about does it then."

"One more thing." She laughed at him. "We go to the Weasley's for dinner. If I can face them, with them knowing about what I do, then so can you."

"Only if you drop the glamour." He grinned when he saw her smile and knew he would not be lonely again.

END

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**AN: Good grief… 30k on a story that I was going to do 2 Chaps on… I hope they shut up and stop this banter**…


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